Aftermath and Ascension
by pseudomoi
Summary: Ascend: to move, climb, or go upward; rise; OR: to go toward the source or beginning. After betrayal rocks her to the core, Lord Torilya Tisonne must overcome the fallout in order to halt her corrupt master's rise to power - even as she is forced to reconsider her place in the Empire and her role as a Sith. Contains spoilers for SW story. SW/Quinn, despite initial appearances.
1. Chapter 1

Years of military training had conditioned Lieutenant Pierce to wake at the slightest sound when necessary, but since entering Lord Torilya's service, he had rarely needed to sleep "on alert," as he called it - at least, not while aboard her ship. Tonight, though, he found himself only able to doze lightly, unable to shake the uneasiness that permeated the ship. He thumped his head back into his pillow and cracked his beefy knuckles, then gave into his racing thoughts and tried to piece together the events of the last several days.

Quinn had disappeared abruptly a couple of days ago, saying only that "his lord required his services elsewhere" and that he'd return soon. The Sith had been tightlipped on the matter, snapping pettishly at Vette to drop it when she pressed for details, but Pierce knew it had to be related to whatever had happened on the transponder station a week prior. Quinn had stumbled back onto the ship a full twenty minutes before their lord, obviously injured and looking positively green, but would only say - in an unusually raspy voice - that their mission was complete before retreating to the med bay and pulling the door shut. Pierce had started after him to demand an explanation and details regarding Torilya's whereabouts, but Jaesa had stopped him.

"I don't know exactly what's happening, Pierce, but I sense that digging for details now will serve none of us well," she'd said, uncharacteristically calmly. "Best to at least wait for Master to return. She is close by; I can feel her."

Pierce studied Jaesa's yellow eyes for a moment before exhaling roughly. "All right, but if he's done something stupid…" he trailed off, not finishing his threat.

Jaesa had merely nodded before going back to the holoterminal to continue her so-called research on potential "disloyal" Sith. Just when Pierce had decided to go look for her, Torilya appeared at the ship's airlock, her hood pulled low over her face. Vette rushed to her side, but the Sith waved her off, barking a vague order at no one in particular to get them to the Fleet before disappearing into her quarters and sealing the door. Vette had looked stunned, but collected herself quickly and scampered to the bridge to plot their course.

The days following had been unusually quiet on the Fury. Normally the ship was a hub of activity between Lord Torilya doing training exercises with Jaesa in the cargo hold or gabbing loudly in the lounge area with Vette, the two of them sometimes ganging up on Quinn to give him a hard time, much to Pierce's delight. Quinn had not emerged from the medbay other than to make the occasional trip to the refresher, thereby skipping the intimate breakfasts at the small table tucked into the galley corner that had become routine for him and Torilya to share. Even Broonmark seemed to move more cautiously, warbling menacingly at anyone who started to approach Torilya's door when she was sequestered behind it. She moved about the ship on occasion to take care of some business and sat with the crew to mechanically eat the meals Vette forced on her, but had otherwise taken to spending most of her time in her quarters.

Finally, after a few days of this, Torilya had risen early one morning and stalked into the medbay, using the Force to blow the latch on the door. A low, tense conversation ensued between her and Quinn, and when Torilya emerged some moments later, she looked Pierce in the eye for the first time since she had returned from the transponder station as he passed by her on his way to do his morning workout in the cargo hold. Pierce had to quickly school his expression to hide his surprise at what he saw: Though Torilya had always walked a fairly dark path, she had never borne physical evidence of it, something Pierce had always attributed to her extraordinary strength and discipline in the Force. Unlike most Sith he had known, she seemed to use her emotions to work in tandem with the Force, always strictly in control, rather than straining to bend it to her will or allowing it to consume her. Now, however, her eyes flashed orange at him rather than their usual bright green, and her skin had taken on a darkish pallor around them, making the effect all the more intense.

"M'lord," he'd greeted her, nodding deferentially as he always did.

She'd paused for a moment before drawing a deep breath. "Better get used to calling me 'Wrath,' Pierce," she said, her tone clipped but without real rebuke. "Once I take Baras down, it will be necessary to maintain a certain image before the Council."

"Understood, sir," he'd quipped, snapping a salute and grinning rakishly at her, hoping to elicit a smirk. She'd merely nodded at him and continued to the galley, where Vette was waiting to ambush her with a hot breakfast and cup of caff. Quinn had departed an hour later, looking healed but unkempt, something Pierce had never thought he'd see from the uptight Captain.

Since that morning, Torilya - _Wrath,_ he mentally corrected himself, rolling over once again in his bunk - had been a bit more herself, though without her usual dry sense of humor. They were currently still docked at the Fleet; Too-Vee had been working round the clock to coordinate upgrading and repairing their armor, performing maintenance on the ship, and putting the trashed medbay back to rights, laying in plenty of extra supplies before heading to Corellia to meet Darth Vowrawn, "just in case," Vette had said.

He'd overheard Jaesa attempting to coax Torilya into venturing off the ship to Vaiken's small cantina earlier that evening, but she had given up fairly quickly and headed down alone, scantily dressed, with a "don't wait up!" tossed casually over her shoulder as she breezed out the airlock. Normally Pierce might have followed her down in hopes of at least some entertainment, if not an easy score, but he felt he should stay close to the ship that night, though he wasn't really sure why. Broonmark had ventured off to hunt, never content to sit idle long, assuring them he'd meet up with them by the time they made it to Corellia "to claim victory for Sith clan." That had left him with Vette and Wrath, and the two women had spent most of the evening quietly watching holovids in the lounge, sharing a bottle of Tarisian wine. Pierce sat to the side, cleaning his rifle and nursing a large mug of Corellian ale. Torilya had retired early, leaving her glass of wine half-finished. Vette had looked at Pierce, shrugged, and tossed back the leftovers before wandering somewhat unsteadily to her bunk.

Pierce was snapped out of his musings by a muffled thud. He was alert in an instant, sitting up in his bunk and placing a hand on the sidearm that was always under his pillow. Another thud brought him to his feet at the door to his quarters. After one more, he silently slid the door open and crept out into the corridor, making his way toward the airlock first before realizing that the sound was actually coming from the cargo hold. When he got to the doorway, he was taken aback at the sight before him - Torilya, in sleep pants and a thin camisole, had just demolished all three training dummies in the hold with her lightsaber, and was posed in a defensive stance among the pieces, the deep orange blade casting an eerie light on her face in the dark hold. As Pierce hesitated in the doorway, not sure whether he should speak to her, she suddenly flung her lightsaber aside and leapt at the head of one of the dummies that had rolled to the far corner of the hold. She kicked at it viciously, sending it bouncing off the wall and flying straight at Pierce, who snatched it out of the air instinctively. Only then did his presence seem to register to her.

"I am sorry, Lieutenant, if I woke you," she spat, her eyes flashing. "I could not sleep and thought I would do some" - her voice faltered as she looked around, seeming to notice the destruction for the first time - "training," she finished, her shoulders sinking a bit as she kept her gaze at the floor.

Pierce did not respond immediately, unsure of how to proceed. He had never seen his lord look defeated, and seeing her before him like this, barely contained, he was unnerved.

"I couldn't sleep either, m'lord," the usual honorific slipping out before he caught himself. _Bollocks!_ he cursed himself inwardly, grimacing.

Torilya's head snapped up. "I told you not to call me that any longer!" she growled. Her eyes were wild again, almost glowing. "Do you not understand? I do NOT want to hear that… that…" she trailed off, her voice once again cracking.

Pierce found himself dropping the dummy's head that he still held and stepping toward her instinctively, though he didn't know to what end. To let her strike him? To comfort her? He began to sink as if to come to a knee before her, but she caught his arm roughly, her hand barely large enough to cup the underside of his massive elbow.

"Gods damn it, Pierce, don't grovel! It isn't fitting of an Imperial officer!" Torilya all but shrieked, her voice becoming shrill now. He looked down at her hand on his arm, noticing the knuckles ripped open and bleeding.

"If you want to punch things, you at least ought to let me tape your hands properly for you," he surprised himself by saying.

She blinked at him, clearly taken aback. He boldly stared into her eyes, figuring he was probably already screwed, so why not? He reached for her other hand, flipping it in his to examine the knuckles there.

"Come on. We've enough crap in the medbay to last us a year, thanks to Vette. I'm sure we can find some tape in there," he said, starting to back out into the corridor, her hand still trapped in his. Suddenly, she yanked it back with enough force to pull him off balance, ducking as she flipped him over her shoulder and onto his back.

"Don't tell me I caught you unawares, Lieutenant," she jeered, her expression unreadable. Pierce recovered quickly, despite having lost his breath momentarily.

_She wants to rumble, we'll rumble,_ he thought, scrambling to his feet and sliding into a crouch as he pulled his sidearm from where he'd tucked it into the waistband of his sleep pants, casting it out into the corridor. She charged him, dropping her shoulder and catching him at the waist. He stumbled back a step; though she was lithe and relatively petite compared to him, she was still a better match for him than most of the men in his last command. Whether that was to do with the Force, sheer will, or just pure strength he wasn't sure, but something told Pierce that now was not the time to hold back. She wanted no favors. He shifted his weight and countered her attack, putting her off-balance in turn. They tussled for what seemed like hours, not speaking, neither really landing blows, but neither giving ground, either. He watched her face; her eyes were unfocused, her brow drawn. Whatever was driving her, it wasn't in the room, but Pierce was happy to give her an outlet in one of the few ways he knew how.

Finally, they dropped to their backs on the floor, breathing hard and sweating. Pierce said nothing, but waited to take his cue from her. After a few minutes, she spoke.

"I cannot remember the last time I was able to just spar with someone for the sake of sparring. Training with Jaesa is so damned exhausting; she's so undisciplined and bloodthirsty that I have to constantly work to keep her controlled," Torilya rolled her eyes as she mentioned her apprentice.

"I can imagine," Pierce snorted. He certainly appreciated Jaesa's physical attributes, but he had to admit that the girl was just a little too unhinged for his liking, not that he'd toss her out of bed if it came to that. "Don't know if she'd rather screw you or disembowel you," he'd once commented to Quinn after an outing with the crew some months back. Quinn, of course, had said something stuffy and changed the subject. _Bloody ponce._

"You'd think we'd have woken the whole ship. It always amazes me how soundly Vette can sleep." Torilya almost seemed to be rambling now, her breath still ragged. "She's useless on watch rotations. Falls asleep at the drop of a hat and nothing wakes her. Quinn says-" she cut off abruptly, sitting up and reaching up to rub the back of her neck, her back to Pierce now.

Pierce stopped breathing for a moment. He wanted to ask about what had happened, though he knew it obviously was not good. Quinn and the Wrath had been getting very close in recent months; many times in recent weeks Pierce had caught Quinn creeping out of her quarters early in the mornings. He knew it was more than just a physical relationship, though he wasn't sure just how deep it truly ran. He was pretty sure he was getting an answer now.

"If there's - " he started, then went quiet as he saw her shoulders tense. They sat in silence for a moment more. Just as Pierce was starting to wonder what he should do, she let out a shuddering breath and began to speak.

She told him about Quinn's betrayal, of their relationship, of how just weeks before the incident he'd declared his love. She told him of her uncertainty regarding his motives and just how deeply Baras was involved in manipulating him, of her uncertainty that she'd ever be able to trust him again, either on her crew or as her lover. And then, almost in a whisper, she spoke - more to the floor now than to Pierce - of how she felt like a failure as a Sith and a woman.

"Vette knows, too," she told him, "but I don't know how much I'll tell the others. Broonmark would probably just rip his limbs off and make him eat them, and Jaesa will either kill him or seduce him," she laughed bitterly. "If the story gets out, the fact that I let him live will undermine my authority as Wrath, but I suppose I shall just have to be fearsome enough to make up for it."

Her bravado had started to rebuild, but Pierce could tell her grasp on it was tenuous. He waited a moment, to see if she had more to say, but she seemed to retreat back into her thoughts. He decided to blunder ahead.

"Permission to speak freely, Wrath," he barked, his nerves causing him to default to military protocol.

"You know you need not ask," she said coolly, still not turning to look at him.

"Quinn is a stupid arsehole," he blurted. She inhaled sharply, but he barged ahead. "I don't pretend for a moment to understand Sith politics or headgames, but Baras or no, do not let that little git make you feel like less of a warrior," he paused to take a deep breath, wondering if what he was about to say was totally foolish, "or a woman," he finished, letting his hand come up to rest between her shoulder blades from where he still lay on the floor. She flinched at his touch, but did not pull away.

They sat like that for a long moment, Torilya gradually letting her weight sink into his palm a little. He sat up, then carefully began to run his thumbs along the sides of her spine and up her neck, trying to help release some of the obvious tension there. He had no idea exactly what he meant to accomplish - he was rubbish at this emotional crisis stuff - but he knew that he could not stand to see his lord and friend in this fragile state. She let out a long breath and rolled her head from side to side, clearly trying to will herself to relax. Tentatively, Pierce reached up to the metal clasp that held her hair atop her head in its usual messy coil. When she did not protest, he unfastened it, letting her thick black hair tumble down below her shoulders. He awkwardly began to comb his fingers through it, first at the ends, then at the scalp. She leaned into his touch a little more, and just as he began to ponder what he was supposed to do next, she suddenly spun around on her hip and up onto her knees to straddle his lap, gripping his shoulders tightly and wrapping her legs around his hips. He stilled - well, most of him stilled, his thin sleep pants doing him no favors in this situation - and waited a beat before looking into her face. She was looking back at him intensely now, but her expression was still hard to read.

"Your body wants me," she said, as neutrally as she might state that water is wet.

He swallowed hard. "It's not dead. No way not to notice you're a damn sexy woman."

She kept staring at him, leaning in to press her chest to his. "I once told you serving me could be very rewarding. Did you ever consider what that might come to mean?"

_Oh, fuck. No way to answer this one right. _


	2. Chapter 2

Pierce hesitated only a moment, then decided to just follow his instincts. He brought his hands up to grip her hips roughly.

"I would be more than happy to spend the rest of the night giving you the ride of your life, if that's what you want. You want a distraction, a way to disconnect for a while, fine. Sure as hell not gonna complain. But I won't be your pawn in some game to get back at Quinn. 'S not my way. I can't stand the bastard, but if I'm going to do something about it, it'll be with his eyes wide open and looking at me," he growled before delivering a sharp nip to her ear.

For the first time in days, she rewarded him with her trademark smirk. "That's why we work so well together, Lieutenant. Neither of us are really fit for Sith politics."

With that, Pierce rose to his feet, her legs remaining wrapped around him, and made his way into the corridor.

"Your quarters. Not mine," she said sharply.

"Understood."

Vette overslept the next morning; she never recovered quickly from overindulging - not that it took much for her to overdo it. She shuffled to the galley in search of caff, finding Too-Vee in there with some already prepared.

"Good morning, Mistress Vette! I have taken the liberty of repairing the training equipment and cleaning the cargo hold, and I have returned the Lieutenant's sidearm to the weapons storage. Do you require sustenance? Or perhaps I should -"

"Switch off, would you?" Vette grumbled, holding her forehead as she snatched the steaming mug from the droid. "And what's the deal with the cargo hold and Pierce's blaster? Did something happen?"

"Based on my conjecture, it appears that either Master Tisonne was training vigorously last night or there was a struggle of some sort, but when I inquired if all was well this morning, I was ordered to 'stuff it,' which I could only take to mean that she wished me to cease my -"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Vette cut him off. "Where is Tori now?"

"She is on the bridge. Shall I -"

"No, just relax, Too-Vee. Go power down or something." Vette poured a second mug of caff and made her way to the bridge. She found Torilya sitting with her feet propped on the map console, staring out into space. Vette held out one of the mugs.

"How's it going, my lord?" she said as chirpily as she could muster given her headache.

Torilya accepted the mug and took a sip. "I suppose there's no use reminding you that I asked you not to call me that any longer," she said dryly.

"Yeah… what's up with that? I mean, yeah, you're the Wrath and that's all impressive and scary and stuff, but you're usually not one to get hung up on protocol, you know? And don't tell me it's because you give a damn about what the Council thinks, because I know you better than that."

Torilya was quiet for a moment. "Quinn had a way of saying it that made it almost sound like an endearment. I do not wish to be reminded of that just now," she admitted.

"Oh! oh, sure, no sweat!" Vette babbled. "But you really don't expect me to call you 'Wrath' when we're not in front of other people, do you? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I can't do it without rolling my eyes." Vette plopped herself onto the map console next to Torilya's booted feet. "And what the heck happened in the cargo hold last night? Too-Vee was short-circuiting about cleaning up and repairing and who knows what this morning."

"I got a bit carried away training, it would seem. Then Pierce joined me for a while. Apparently he couldn't sleep either."

"You're still not sleeping?" Vette looked at her friend sharply. "It's been a week, Tori. Even Sith need to sleep."

"I got a bit last night. Pierce managed to wear me out," Torilya said evenly.

"Well, that's great, but it's not enough. You need to rest. We need to get to Corellia soon so we can finish this."

Quickly realizing that Torilya was not going to say anything further on the matter, Vette turned her attention to her mug. They sat in silence for a while before Vette spoke again.

"I'm starving. Want me to get you some breakfast?"

A slow smile spread across Torilya's face before she broke into a fit of laughter. After a moment, Vette sighed.

"And what, O Hysterical One, is the joke here?"

Torilya hiccuped a bit before replying, "I just distinctly remember a certain little feisty Twi'lek telling me she was in no way up for any domestic duties, and here you are foisting food upon me at every turn and clucking at me to sleep like a little mother hen."

Childishly, Vette stuck her tongue out at Tori as she flounced off the bridge to the galley.

It was nearly mid-day by the ship's clock when Pierce finally dragged himself out of his bunk. He stood in his quarters, carefully stretching his sore muscles, then headed to the refresher to clean up. As he stepped out of his quarters, he saw Torilya coming toward him, a neutral expression on her face.

"Lieutenant, a word please, if you have a moment," she said, nodding toward his quarters.

"'Course, m'l- er, Wrath," he replied, stepping back through his door. She followed him in, latching the door quietly behind her.

"Pierce, I've been a bit absurd about this whole 'Wrath' thing. It is still appropriate when we are in the presence of others, but when we are on the ship, please call me Torilya." She paused as he nodded. "Also, I just wanted to convey my gratitude for your company last night, both in the cargo hold and in this room. Though you rightly described it as a distraction, I feel stronger, more centered today. I have you to thank for that. I don't believe any other, erm, distraction would have had the same effect."

With that, she stood on her toes and placed a chaste kiss on his stubbly cheek. Pierce floundered for a moment before clearing his throat.

"Anytime, Torilya. I've got your back," he said gruffly.

For the second time that morning, she found herself laughing. Pierce raised an eyebrow at her quizzically. She smirked at him.

"Yes, Pierce, I believe you did." She gave him a saucy grin before stepping back toward the door.

"Satisfied, then?" he tossed back at her, unable to resist.

Torilya just smirked at him again before turning to walk back out to the lounge. He watched her go, taking a little extra time to appreciate the sway of her hips before shaking his head and making his way to the refresher. Just as he stepped in, he heard her tell Vette to try raising Jaesa and Broonmark on the holo.

"We're ready," she said. "It's time we get going."


	3. Chapter 3

By evening, Jaesa had made her way back to the ship, and Vette had managed to get in touch with Broonmark, who was to rendezvous with them when they arrived at Corellia. Jaesa disappeared to her quarters to sleep off the effects of her long night out - Torilya didn't care to think too much about what that might have entailed - so after a quiet dinner with Vette and Pierce, Torilya made certain the ship's course was appropriately plotted and retired to her quarters. She put on a pair of stretchy pants and a soft, sleeveless top, then spent some time in meditation, something she hadn't been successful in doing since the transponder station. When she finished, she moved to the private holoterminal next to her bed. Taking a few more deep breaths, she steeled herself and placed a call.

* * *

Quinn had spent nearly a week traveling, and it showed. His normally impeccable uniform had been traded for a long, beaten-up leatheris duster and a crumpled fedora, and his trademark 5 o'clock shadow had morphed into the beginnings of a full-fledged beard. Fatigue and heavy spirits caused his normally ramrod-straight posture to falter. To the casual observer, he looked far more like a freighter captain of questionable repute than an Imperial officer. He'd taken a transport to Tatooine and spent a couple of days holed up in a cantina there, then once he'd secured a small cargo ship, made a series of stops - first Balmorra, then Hoth, then finally Nar Shaddaa, where he was currently docked. He knew trying to hide himself for too long was pointless, but he hoped the chaos of Nar Shaddaa would afford him enough anonymity to get by for a while - long enough, anyway.

He stretched out atop the flimsy mattress on the so-called bed in the captain's quarters of the ship - he refused to think of it as his - and tried to rest. His medic's training told him he was running dangerously close to total exhaustion, and he knew he needed to stay sharp. Every time he closed his eyes, though, he saw Torilya's face as it loomed over him on the transponder station after she'd thrown him into the wall and choked him. He'd watched her beautiful eyes change, seen the pallor come over her face, and something inside him had broken when she refused to kill him. She had him dead to rights, and that was the only way it could possibly end - and yet his lord had surprised him to the last. _Not a typical Sith, indeed_, he thought, the nausea that had been his constant companion for the last week rising again.

His holo chirped, pulling him back to the moment. He rose to answer it, scrubbing his hand over his face and attempting to collect himself. The image took several seconds to fully resolve, but eventually the face of a sandy-haired woman became clear.

"Malavai, I'm here," she said, looking over her shoulder as she spoke. "Are you certain this is wise?"

"No, but it's the best we can do for the moment," he responded. "Stay alert. I'll come to you shortly."

"All right." There was a muffled uproar behind the woman, and she flinched. "Please hurry."

"I'm on my way. Remember what we discussed."

Disconnecting the call, Quinn hurriedly pulled on his boots and holster, ensuring his blaster and vibroknife were properly secured and ready, then tucked two spare knives and a couple of syringes into hidden pockets in his duster. A compact emergency medic's kit went into a pouch on the back of his belt. One more small knife went into his left boot, a personal holo unit into a pocket, and then he was making his way off the ship, his fedora pulled down tightly over his forehead. Before he made it to the airlock lift, the holo in his pocket beeped. He pulled it out and answered it, his heart hammering wildly in his chest.

"Captain," Torilya greeted him brusquely. "You are advised that the Fury and her crew are en route to Corellia. Our mission objective remains unchanged. Should I require your assistance, you will be notified directly either by myself or my second-in-command, Lieutenant Pierce. Maintain radio silence unless otherwise instructed. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, m-" Quinn faltered for a moment, then cleared his throat. "Yes, sir."

"Do you have anything to report? Need-to-know only, Captain."

"No, sir." Quinn forced himself to remain collected.

"Very well. Wrath out." She disconnected the call.

Sliding the comm back into his pocket, Quinn swallowed hard against the bile rising again in his throat. Remembering the woman waiting for him on the surface, he shook his head frantically for a brief moment as if to shake something loose, then made his way out of the airlock and to the spaceport taxi.

* * *

On the Fury, Torilya sat down shakily on her bed. She took deep breaths until her heart rate slowed and her hands stilled, then stood abruptly and strode out of her quarters. Vette and Pierce were still in the lounge, evidently taking turns hustling Too-Vee at sabacc. Vette looked up from her hand on hearing Torilya enter.

"Want in? We're playing for the last of the stash of that amazing candy I got on Alderaan." Vette shook the box at her enticingly.

Torilya grinned. "Hardly. You two shouldn't be allowed anywhere near the same table."

Vette shrugged. "Suit yourself," she said, turning her attention back to her cards.

Torilya watched as Vette efficiently wiped the floor with Too-Vee, then turned her sights on Pierce. "Come on, Lieutenant, let's see what you've got." Too-Vee, perhaps sensing an opportunity to escape, began rambling something about more cushioning for the seats and tottered off.

"Actually, I'd hoped to steal Pierce for a moment," Torilya broke in.

Vette raised an eyebrow, but made a "be my guest" gesture. Pierce started to rise, but Torilya stopped him. "No need to disturb your game, I just needed your assistance for a moment," she said, holding up the roll of tape she'd grabbed from the medbay. Vette gasped and flew out of her seat to Tori's side.

"What happened? Are you injured? How did you manage to-" Torilya placed a firm hand on Vette's shoulder and pushed her back into her seat, Pierce taking the roll of tape and smiling wanly at Tori as she did so.

"I'm fine, Vette. Take it down a notch," she said, giving the girl a gentle tweak to a _lek. _"You've been spending too much time with Too-Vee."

Vette, ever mature, flipped a rude gesture at Torilya, who rolled her eyes as she held out her hands to Pierce. He taped them securely, giving her fingers a light squeeze as he finished.

"Want some company?" he asked her, looking carefully at her face.

"If you like. I'll be in the hold. Not to worry, I left my saber in my quarters." She grinned at him, looking as sheepish as a Sith Lord possibly can.

Returning her smile, he stood. "I'll change and be right there," he told her, gesturing at his heavy boots and street clothes.

Torilya nodded at him, then turned and walked toward the cargo hold.

"Fine by me!" Vette called after them both. "Guess that means I win!" She brandished the box of treats above her head, then tossed one at Pierce's departing back.

A few moments later, Pierce found Torilya working through some punch combinations on one of the dummies to warm up. She tossed him a quick, tight grin, and he could see the tension hovering just under the surface in her eyes.

"All right?" he asked simply.

She shrugged as she continued to pummel the dummy. "Figured I'd heed your advice, is all."

"Sparring, then?"

"Yes. But only sparring, this time," she said, looking at him somewhat apologetically. She finished her combination and stood before him, arms hanging loosely at her sides.

He looked her in eyes as he responded simply, "I've got your back."

She nodded once, her lips tight. He stepped forward to drop a friendly kiss on her forehead, then sank into a crouch with a feral grin. "Bring it, then," he taunted, his fingers making a "come at me" gesture.

She gave him a grateful smile, then crouched and sprang, her eyes flashing.

Once again, they sparred to the point of exhaustion, Pierce monitoring Tori's face periodically. Her eyes were once again unfocused, but she wasn't teetering on the edge of control this time. Her movements were more precise, her energy still intense but carefully restrained. _This_ was more like the Sith Lord he'd come to know in combat. Finally, she overpowered him, landing him on his back and pinning him with a knee to his chest, her hand at his throat. She looked down at him and her eyes seemed to snap back into focus; rising quickly, she offered him a hand and brought them both to a sitting position facing each other on the floor. They sat in silence, both too winded to speak. After a few minutes, Torilya got up and went to the galley, returning with a large canteen full of cold water. She sat back down next to Pierce, who had moved to lean against a wall, as she offered it to him. He took a long drink, then gave it back to her. She drank, then leaned her head back against the wall. Still not speaking, they passed the canteen back and forth, just listening to the sounds of the ship.

The racket in the hold had pulled Jaesa out of her stupor. She reached out with the Force and felt a muddled jumble of emotions, but sensed no real danger. Rolling over, she tried to go back to sleep. She gave up after a few minutes and hauled herself out of bed and to the galley, catching sight of Pierce and Tori leaning against the wall in the hold as she passed. Vette was flipping through holovids in the lounge, munching on candy. Jaesa got herself a cup of caff and sat next to Vette, swiping a handful of treats as she sat.

"Sure, help yourself," Vette said sarcastically.

"Don't mind if I do," Jaesa intoned calmly. She took a drag of her caff, then said casually, "So, were they fighting or screwing in there?"

Vette sat up sharply. "What the hell, Jaesa? Jealous?"

Jaesa's laugh was slightly chilling. "Nah. Got plenty of both last night, thanks. You should have come along, broadened your horizons a bit." She cut her eyes over to Vette, then trailed a finger down Vette's forearm. "You might surprise yourself," she said coyly.

Vette yanked her arm away. "God, you are creepy," she muttered.

Jaesa laughed again. "Whatever you say. I am a bit surprised that she went to him for whatever the hell they were doing. If she wanted a good fight, she should have woken me up."

Vette snorted. "She'd snap you like a twig. Pierce can at least sort of keep up with her if there's no Force use involved."

The box of candy suddenly flew out of Vette's lap and into Jaesa's hand. "Shut your mouth, child," Jaesa spat. "You have no idea what I'm capable of."

Standing quietly, Vette walked over to the galley and got herself a glass of water. Jaesa was absorbed in selecting a treat from the box when the mug in her other hand suddenly shattered, sending hot caff pouring onto her robes. With an indignant shriek, Jaesa shot to her feet, flinging the box aside. Vette was calmly tucking a small holdout blaster back into her waistband as she walked out of the room.

"Don't call me 'child,' you psycho bitch."

Pierce started to stand when he heard the ruckus in the lounge, but Torilya stopped him.

"Let it go. No one's hurt."

He shrugged and leaned against the wall again as Too-Vee whirred by with cleaning supplies, blathering away to himself.

"Reckon we ought to turn in, then," Pierce said. "Should be ready to dock tomorrow, yeah?"

Torilya nodded slowly, but said nothing. He looked at her for a moment, then stood up and extended his hand to help her to her feet. She took it and looked at him questioningly.

"Go get yourself ready for bed then meet me in the lounge. 'S an order," he said with a wink. She opened her mouth as if to protest, then just shook her head and went to do as she was told.

When she entered the lounge a little while later, Pierce was already in there, dressed for bed himself, with a stack of pillows and blankets ready on the sofa. He'd pulled one of the lounge chairs around to face one end of the sofa, and had a steaming mug of something in his hand. He held it out to her, chuckling at her expression.

"Just herbal tea. Thought it might help you relax a bit," he said.

She accepted the mug and took a careful sip. "Thank you. That's actually quite good," she said, not totally able to keep the surprise out of her voice.

"My mum's blend," he explained simply. "Keep a stash on hand when I can."

She nodded, sipping again. He settled himself on an end of the sofa, propping his feet on the chair and tossing one of the blankets over his lap. She met his eyes, and he thumped the seat next to him.

"C'mon, get comfy," he prodded. "Got a bunch of stupid vids queued up. Nothing but the basest of humor."

Her eyes softened a bit and she gave him a real smile, finally catching on. She sat next to him, tucking her feet under her. He started the first vid, and they watched in companionable silence save for the occasional chuckle. Once she finished her tea, he gently took the mug from her and set it on an end table. He grabbed one of the pillows he'd brought in, tucked it next to his hip, and gently but firmly pushed her down by the shoulder until she was lying down, her head not quite in his lap. He covered her with one of the blankets, then turned his attention back to the holovid, leaving his hand resting lightly on her shoulder.

Somewhere in the middle of the third vid, he realized her breathing had evened out and she was at least dozing. Lowering the volume, he let his head drop back against the sofa and closed his eyes, too.

* * *

While the occupants of the Fury wound down for the evening, Quinn wound his way through one of the seedier areas of Nar Shaddaa to a small cantina. Trying not to wrinkle his nose visibly at the stench, he made his way to the bar, where the woman who had called earlier was perched on a stool, looking very much like she was trying hard not to touch more of the cantina's surfaces than she absolutely must. Quinn sidled up behind her and slid an arm around her waist, and she stiffened instantly.

"It's just me, Melia," he bent his head to murmur in her ear. "Relax."

She let out a sigh and turned to look at him. "Wow, the holo didn't do you justice. You look like utter hell."

"It's been a difficult week. Well, difficult many weeks." Quinn clenched his jaw.

Melia reached up and gently laid a hand on one side of his face. "What's the plan here? I don't like this place, and I -"

Quinn cut her off with a quick finger to her lips, gesturing to the bartender as he did so. "I am buying you a drink. In a few moments, you will succumb to my advances and we will make our way out of here."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Please tell me that isn't how you wooed your Sith Lord. No wonder she tossed you out."

Quinn turned his head quickly to slip the bartender a credit stick for the drinks that had appeared by his elbow, but not before Melia saw the flash of pain in his eyes.

"Sorry," she said softly. He didn't respond for a moment, focusing his attention on the drinks that he was surreptitiously scanning with a tiny device he concealed in his sleeve. He handed her one, then raised his glass to toast her.

"Your good health," he said, then drained his glass in one movement. She sipped at hers cautiously.

"You can't think you're being watched here already?" she asked, leaning into him.

"No. But I cannot take any chances. Nor can you. Now laugh, please."

She managed a weak laugh that she hoped passed for flirtatious. Quinn responded with a grin that he hoped didn't look forced to anyone walking by. They sat a moment more, Melia sipping at her drink, then Quinn bent to whisper in her ear once again.

"All right. Follow my lead." She nodded up at him.

He pulled her off her barstool and wound her arm through his elbow. As they walked toward the exit, he took her chin in his hand and turned her face to look at him.

"Keep your eyes open," he said.

A tense walk and taxi ride later, they were entering the airlock where the little cargo ship was docked. Quinn keyed the security code and ushered her onto the ship before him, then turned and reset the codes, locking them in.

"Welcome to your new home, albeit hopefully temporarily," he said.

"Charming," she answered dryly.

He led her to the tiny lounge, which doubled as the galley, and sat in one of the ratty chairs, gesturing at her to do the same. She studied his face for a moment.

"You know, now I think I see why Mother was so insistent that you never grow a beard. It really doesn't suit you."

When he didn't respond, she sighed heavily.

"We're here now. Are you going to talk?"

"What in particular do you want to know?" he asked. "I thought you understood why this needed to happen."

"Yeah. Angry Sith - one of whom should've killed you but didn't, the other won't hesitate to, but not until he's certain you've been sufficiently punished, though I still don't quite understand for what - vengeance, retribution, blah, blah, blah. But Malavai - what _happened_?"

He dropped his head into his hands.

"I am still struggling to fully grasp that myself."


	4. Chapter 4

Torilya woke to a strange rattling sensation near her head coupled with an ungodly noise. She sat up - a bit disoriented, it took her a moment to realize she wasn't in her quarters. Another sound startled her back to full awareness, and she turned to see Pierce sound asleep, head tilted back over the edge of the sofa, mouth hanging open, snoring more loudly than Tori thought possible of a human. Stifling a laugh, she leaned over and nudged him with her elbow. He snorfled and swatted at her, but didn't seem to wake. Unable to stop the giggles now, she poked him hard in the ribcage.

"Oi!" he shouted, sitting upright. "What the -"

"Morning, Lieutenant. Sleep well?"

He turned to see her grinning at him cheekily.

"Might've done, if someone hadn't hogged the whole sofa," he retorted, grinning back.

She punched him lightly in the shoulder, then stood up and stretched.

"We must be near docking," she said. "I'll head to the bridge and check our status. Put on the caff, will you?"

"Aye, sir," he said through a massive yawn, hauling himself to his feet.

Torilya padded to the bridge to find they were within an hour of docking. She sent TooVee to rouse the others, then went to dress for the day. Her more traditional robes were packed away in storage; she'd replaced them before they left Vaiken with something she felt better suited her. She got herself into the tightly-fitting black ensemble, tucking her gloves into her belt to put on later, then stepped to her small mirror to secure her hair back in its usual coil. Her reflection made her pause for a moment, but she shook her head slightly, finished fastening her hair, and stepped back out of her quarters. When she reached the galley, she found the whole crew assembled, suited up, and being served breakfast by TooVee.

"Morning, Your Most Wrathfulness," Vette chirped, waving a slice of toast at her from where she leaned on the galley bar. Pierce silently pushed out a chair for her and set a mug of caff next to her waiting plate. Jaesa said nothing from where she slouched folded into an armchair with a mug, her usual morning surliness amplified by her residual irritation with Vette. Tori sat and began sipping her caff.

"What's the plan?" Pierce asked, all business now that he was in uniform.

"Once we dock, we should hear from the Hand. See where they point us, then Vette and I will head to the surface and start tracking these assassins. You and Jaesa will stay on the ship for now and monitor communications. Any additional chatter you can pick up, all the better. I don't think the Hand is misleading us, but I want all bases covered." Torilya looked in his eyes with her last statement, her expression hard.

"I'm on it," he said quickly, nodding once at her. "Can count on me."

"I know, Lieutenant," she returned his nod. "Have Jaesa help you interpret if you catch anything that sounds remotely hinky, regardless of the source."

"Understood."

Torilya turned to Jaesa who, predictably, was visibly sulking at being left behind.

"Do you have something to say, apprentice?" Torilya spoke sharply.

"Would it make a difference, Master?" Jaesa sniped from behind her mug.

Torilya made a fast, small gesture with her hand. Jaesa's mug flew from her grasp, eliciting a shrill protest from the girl.

"I didn't quite catch that," Torilya snarled.

Jaesa looked at her, somewhat abashed. "Sorry, Master; I can't seem to finish a mug of caff without incident these days," she said, tossing a glare at Vette.

"Let me take a moment to make something clear to all of you." Torilya stood as she spoke. "We have a mission to accomplish, and I will not be sidetracked by any petty squabbling, personal hangups, temper tantrums, or any other assorted bantha shit. I am not the sort of Sith who thrives on drama, nor am I the sort who generally relishes wasting time on punishment for punishment's sake, but let me assure you that until my mission is complete, I will not hesitate to deal with your problems for you in any way I see fit without stopping to ask questions. Am I clear?"

"Crystal," said Vette, looking a bit stunned.

Pierce just looked at her and nodded, resisting the urge to salute.

Torilya turned to stare at Jaesa, who had started laughing.

"Bit rich, isn't it?" she chortled. "Talk about personal hangups and temper tantrums. Look in the mirror lately, Master?"

Pierce shot out of his chair so fast that it fell over, but Torilya was already to Jaesa before he could move any farther. Vette gasped, her hand flying to cover her mouth, as the sound of Torilya striking Jaesa hard across the face echoed in the small room. She hauled Jaesa to her feet, holding her just off the ground by the front of her robes.

"You. Understand. Nothing," she hissed, her nose nearly touching Jaesa's. She released Jaesa's robes, letting the girl drop back to her feet, then stepped back. "I will ask you one more time. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Master," Jaesa responded, her chin lifted defiantly.

Torilya stepped back. The room was silent for a moment until Too-Vee tottered in.

"Master, you asked me to notify you when we were within fifteen minutes of docking. By my calculations, we will arrive in fourteen minutes, fifty-two-"

"Yes, Too-Vee, thank you. See that my gear as well as Vette's is packed and ready."

"Of course, Master. Do you require-"

"Too-Vee."

"Yes, Master." The droid left the room, surprisingly without further commentary.

* * *

Aboard the little cargo ship, Quinn fought with the temperamental caff brewer, his eyes bleary. He'd managed a couple hours of fitful sleep, but it hadn't been nearly enough. His grumbling grew gradually louder until he yanked the filter basket out with too much force, splintering a piece of it off, at which he cursed loudly and hurled the thing across the tiny galley. Melia came in at that, raising an eyebrow at the scene.

"You know, they work better when they're not in pieces," she remarked mildly.

"You never were as funny as you thought."

Melia stooped to pick up the filter basket and silently held out her hand for the broken shard. He handed it to her, and she examined it for a moment.

"Never fear, little brother, I'll clean up your mess. Go get cleaned up. Maybe even shave."

He mumbled something unintelligible and stalked out of the room.

By the time he'd cleaned up - though still sporting the beard - Melia had somehow managed to get the caff machine reassembled and had a mug waiting for him. She pointed to a chair, and after he sat, handed him the caff. She sat in the chair facing him and sipped from her own mug.

"The sulky teenager routine didn't work for you when you were an actual teenager, Malavai, and it looks no better on you now."

"How should I act, then?" he lashed out. "I'm stuck mindlessly wandering the galaxy trapped in this ship like a caged beast, my so-called boss no doubt wants me dead or tortured, and the woman I love-" he cut himself off.

"Spit it out, Malavai."

He drained his mug, then stood and began pacing.

"I could take it if she wanted me dead," he said quietly. "I would understand. It'd be no less than what I deserve. It'd be no less than what I expected. I was weak, and she despises weakness. _I_ despise it. Most of all in myself. But instead she spared me. And why? Out of pity? To make me suffer while waiting for the inevitable, brimming with false hope that she spared me out of…" he swallowed hard.

"Say it."

"Love," he whispered.

"She's Sith, Malavai. _Can_ she love?"

"I had begun to convince myself that perhaps she could - that perhaps she could even love _me_. She's unlike any other Sith I've known. She can be ruthless, yes. Cunning, shrewd. Extraordinarily powerful. But somehow, at the same time, she _cares_. She's adopted an annoying little Twi'lek as a surrogate younger sibling. She takes the time to try to mentor - and so patiently! - an apprentice who, albeit powerful, borders on insane and behaves much of the time like a spoiled toddler with an odd penchant for bloodshed. She has a sense of humor, doesn't behave as if she's above the rest of us. She is… wholly unique." His voice faltered as he remembered the last time he used such a phrase to describe his lord, but he continued pacing.

"That's all very nice, and she sounds like a perfectly… er, _lovely_ Sith. It's not adding up for me, though. If she is all that, and you felt - feel - for her as you say, then I don't understand how you ended up in the situation you're in. Is this Baras character really all that terrifying? Did you not believe she could protect you? Or are you really so entrenched in some misguided ideal of patriotism that you thought you were doing the right thing?"

"It's a bit of all of that, and more, I think. I don't know - I always felt like I was thinking clearly when I spoke with Baras, and clearer still when I spoke to my lord. And yet, sometimes, when I was alone or occupied with other business, things would become… muddled."

Quinn raked his hands through his hair, and his steps suddenly started to become slower and a bit uneven. He stopped, swaying slightly on his feet, and looked at his mug.

"You put a sedative in this, didn't you?"

Melia didn't answer, but stood and grabbed him by the elbow. She walked him to his quarters and deposited him on his bed. As she pulled off his boots, the sedative took full effect and Quinn began breathing deeply and evenly. She tossed a light blanket over him and flipped off his light.

"Sleep tight, little brother."


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: From this point forward, some in-game dialogue may make its way in. Obviously, anything you recognize isn't mine. With that said, I may take some artistic liberty here and there, so bear with me if things don't stay strictly in line with in-game conversations or plot points._

* * *

Torilya checked her belt for her gloves for the fifth time in a quarter hour, her right leg bouncing uncontrollably. Nervous fidgeting wasn't typically her style, but she couldn't seem to keep still. Pierce had just gained clearance for them to dock at Corellia; she knew the Hand would have the information for them that would start her on her last steps toward freedom of Baras within moments. She sat fiddling with the last of a cup of caff at the galley bar; Vette had insisted she "take a load off" while the Twi'lek oversaw TooVee's last checks of their gear. She didn't relish the thought of leaving Pierce and Jaesa behind, but she knew it had to be done - she couldn't afford the distraction of handling Jaesa planetside, and Pierce was the only one she trusted to keep her apprentice in check as well as keep an ear open for scuttlebutt via comm. It would be good to have Vette at her side on the field again, she mused; though Vette didn't have the medic's training and eye for strategy that she'd come to value in the Captain, the two of them had always worked well together - _and usually managed to have a good time doing it_, she thought with a small smile.

"Tori," Pierce's gruff voice broke into her thoughts. "We've docked. Broonmark should be aboard within the hour."

He looked over his shoulder, clearly making sure they were alone, before stepping over to her. Taking her chin in his broad hand, he tilted it up so that she was looking at him. He looked at her quietly for a moment before speaking.

"Hate that I won't be at your side, but I get why."

She turned her face into his palm for a brief second, uncharacteristically allowing herself to be comforted.

"I know. I do, too. But I need you here. I need to know that someone I trust is watching my back. Vette can do that in the field, but I don't trust her not to get wrapped up in her squabbling with Jaesa and-"

Pierce shushed her. "I get it; I do. Not just putting on a brave face," he grinned at her before going somber again.

"You've got this. And I've got you." He pulled her up into a quick embrace, dropping a brief kiss on her closed lips before turning her round and swatting her smartly on the rear.

"Now go get 'em," he said as the holoterminal chimed from the other room.

"You know, most people are smart enough to be afraid of looking a Sith Lord in the eye, much less smacking one on the arse, Pierce."

"Never claimed to be a smart man. And it's a damn fine arse."

She rolled her eyes at him over her shoulder as she walked towards the holoterminal, pulling her hood over her head as she went.

* * *

Melia fixed herself another cup of caff, then settled herself at the pathetic excuse for a holoterminal on the cargo ship. Malavai would be out for several hours, she reasoned; there was time for her to do a little digging. She made a few well-practiced keystrokes that she hoped would cover her tracks for a short while, then her fingers rapidly began searching. As she read about Baras and his rise to power, her brow furrowed. She noted enough obvious holes to assume that he'd lied, killed, or manipulated his way along in some places, particularly in recent years. Not unusual for a Sith, she knew, but she sensed that this particular Darth was slimier than most. Had to be to unsettle her normally steadfast brother to the point of making a poorly-executed effort to murder his so-called lover.

She started to look into the past of the Sith Malavai had supposedly grown to love, but stopped herself short before making too much progress. While the whole situation struck her as impossible, she figured she and this allegedly "reasonable" Sith could have a conversation or two before she resorted to the holonet. She may not be Force-sensitive, but she wasn't exactly without skill in reading people, she knew. Her own family history made certain of that.

Grimacing at the bitterness of the last dregs of her caff, she made a few final quick keystrokes and pushed herself back from the holoterminal. She wasn't sure that she'd really learned anything other than to proceed with caution - she certainly didn't want to draw the attention of this Baras creep before Malavai's Sith hopefully put an end to him. And she knew that whatever Malavai had been through, he was nowhere yet near being on solid ground. She washed her mug and put it back into the galley cabinet, then quietly stuck her head into Malavai's quarters. She smiled to herself, a little wistfully, at seeing his brow slack for once, the corners of his mouth drooping a bit. As a small child, he'd given himself over to sleep so thoroughly, but she couldn't remember the last time she saw him truly at rest. Certainly not since he'd gone to the military academy, which had happened shortly after their father's death. She crept over and pulled the blanket back up over his shoulder where he'd thrown it off, just as she used to do late at night when they'd been left alone with the household droid. He snuffled in his sleep and pulled his knees into his chest, and she hurriedly left the room, ignoring the tear that trickled down her cheek.

* * *

"These killers are but the first," Servant One's voice echoed tinnily across the lounge of the Fury. "There will be more. Vowrawn actively defies Baras. If he dies, Baras will be named Voice of the Emperor. Protect Darth Vowrawn at all costs, and aid in his attempts to undermine our enemy. Goodbye."

Torilya started to turn away from the holoterminal, but the sound of static stopped her halfway round.

"Detecting a forced transmission," Pierce said, seconds before Baras's image rendered before them.

"I assume you still recognize me. Consider yourself fortunate that I am reaching out like this." Tori forced herself not to cringe at Baras's nasally tones.

"I'm sorry; should I know you?" she feigned innocence, ignoring Vette's barely stifled cackles behind her.

"Your wit has not improved," Baras drew himself up. "It must be ignorance driving your actions. As wronged by me as you may feel, surely you are not intentionally defying the Emperor." Tori barely suppressed an eyeroll at this statement.

"I'm here to tell you that you are being deceived. The organization you work for is not the Emperor's Hand."

"You are the deceiver, Baras," Tori all but yawned, curious to see where this conversation would lead.

"I don't blame you for doubting me. And I will not apologize for my actions. I am the Voice of the Emperor, and there is a reason for all we do. In the end, what you think does not matter. So, believe what you will. But your handlers have you in over your head, sticking your wet nose in Darth business," Baras said snottily.

It was all Tori could do not to laugh. "I've gotten under your skin, haven't I?"

"Your lack of sight is almost laughable. Walk away now, and perhaps our previous animosities can be swept aside." With that, Baras cut the transmission. Torilya gave herself over to the hysterical laughter that had bubbled up.

"The nerve," Pierce snorted through his own laughter. "_He's _gonna forgive _you_?"

The sound of laughter from the entire crew echoed throughout the ship for a moment before Tori cleared her throat and drew herself fully upright again.

"He's lost his mind. Come, no more talk. Baras's assassins must be stopped," she nodded to Vette, and the two women gathered their gear and made their way to the airlock.

* * *

Torilya and Vette had just made their way to the little cantina in the spaceport that would be their home base planetside when Tori's personal holo unit beeped.

"Man, can't leave the kiddos at home for five minutes," Vette quipped.

Ignoring her companion, Tori stepped into a corner and answered. Pierce's image shimmered into place.

"Wrath, Broonmark has reboarded ship and is requesting orders directly from you," he said, barely suppressing a sigh.

Torilya smirked. "I seem to recall someone else once protesting at taking orders indirectly, Lieutenant," she couldn't help goading him.

Pierce opened his mouth as if to protest, then shut it. Tori let her eyes twinkle at him for a second before saving him.

"Put him on; I'll speak to him."

Broonmark's image materialized, and the Talz let forth a series of grunts and warbles upon seeing Torilya, who merely held up a hand. He fell silent.

"Broonmark, Pierce is acting on my authority while I am on planet. Until you hear otherwise from me, you are to do as he asks. Understood?"

Broonmark chuffed an affirmative, then stepped aside for Pierce to resume control of the call.

"Find something for him to do, Pierce," Tori said. "Ship maintenance, weapons upgrades - whatever you can think of to make him feel useful. I may need him before I'm done here, and I don't want him to take off on another hunting expedition - or worse, get bored and pick a fight with Jaesa."

Pierce grinned at her. "Understood, sir. Good hunting."

Tori disconnected the call, then turned to Vette, who had come up behind her.

"I've got a room lined up for us for whenever. What's the plan?"

"We go find some assassins and wipe the floor with them."

"At your service, My Most Wrathful of Wraths," Vette said, patting her blasters.

* * *

As Torilya and Vette were tracking and disposing of the first of Baras's assassins, Quinn began to stir in his slumber. Stretching out an arm, he searched for Tori's waist beside him, ready to pull her back into his embrace. When his hand touched the cool, rough sheets of his narrow bed on the cargo ship, he jolted awake. He sat up in bed, forcing the lump in his throat back down as he reacclimated himself to reality. He was still aboard this floating prison, and his big sister had tricked him and drugged him so that he would sleep. Sighing heavily, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and pulled his boots back on. His body was already responding favorably to the dreamless sleep the sedative had afforded him, but he felt like he had lost time.

_Time to do what, exactly? _he asked himself. Unable to come up with a satisfactory answer, he rose and made his way out of his quarters to confront his sister.

Melia was lightly dozing in a chair in the tiny galley-as-lounge area, but she snapped awake as soon as she heard his footsteps approaching.

"Sleep well?" she asked lightly, yawning and pulling herself to her feet.

"I suppose you're proud of yourself."

"You weren't doing anyone any favors by making yourself crazy through lack of sleep. You weren't going to take the necessary measures, so I did. Get over it," Melia shrugged as she shuffled toward the galley counter. "Tea?"

Quinn opened his mouth and shut it again several times before managing a response.

"Please."

Melia made a gesture that seemed to indicate Malavai should sit, so he did. Several quiet moments passed before Melia handed him a steaming cup of tea. She let him sip for a moment before she spoke.

"What's your plan?"

Quinn boggled at her. "Sorry?"

"You've gotten me off of Dromund Kaas and presumably safe - as safe as I can be - from being used as a tool for your punishment. You're dancing around, hiding from this Darth, who you assume wants you dead since you failed to kill his upstart apprentice - and we'll deal with the fact that you're in love with her later - and I find it hard to believe, Malavai, that your brilliant strategist brain has taken you no further than that. So, I repeat: What is your plan?"

Quinn looked at her, gobsmacked. "I - I honestly don't know, Melia. May I remind you, I hardly expected to be alive and in this situation," he spat, his voice becoming icy.

"Hmm. Poor you."

"I beg your pardon?" Quinn's voice was low, barely above a whisper now.

Melia shrugged. "Sorry you're so inconvenienced by being alive despite your alleged numerous screwups. Sorry you find yourself with a second chance. Sorry you seem content to waste it tormenting yourself. What else would you like me to say?" She walked toward her quarters. "Door's open if you want a chat."

Quinn stared after her from his uncomfortable seat, tea in hand, mouth open in shock.


	6. Chapter 6

"What a day, huh?" Vette flopped on one of the bunks in the small, dusty room she and Tori were sharing. "Darth Blubberbutt sure knows how to pick some weird henchmen. That SIS guy was… special. Half expected him to ask you to autograph his blaster or something before he tried to shoot you."

Torilya made a noncommittal noise, seemingly absorbed in the business of trading her armor for her sleep clothes.

Vette paused for a moment before carrying on. "Too bad. He might have been kinda cute had it not been for that 'I'm a total creeper' vibe. And the whole SIS thing. But, you know, otherwise…"

Torilya snorted. "You've been spending too much time with Jaesa."

"Ah! You _were_ listening!" Vette launched herself from her bunk to Tori's.

"Despite my best efforts, yes."

Vette lobbed a pillow at Tori, missing her entirely. Tori wrinkled her nose as the pillow hit the floor.

"You're sleeping on that one, not me."

Vette rolled her eyes. "Fiiiiiine. Whatever keeps you out of that big Sithy funk you're working on there."

Tori sighed. "I just...need to stay focused, Vette."

"Yeah, I get that. But you're starting to look like someone who's focusing a little too hard for her own good."

The room was quiet for a moment. Tori picked the pillow up off the floor and dropped it on Vette's lap before climbing into the empty bunk, setting her lightsaber and holocom on the nightstand next to it. She turned onto her side, her back to the room.

"Kill the lights when you're done with whatever you're going to do, would you?

Brow furrowed, Vette made quick work of getting ready for bed and stashing her blasters, making sure to leave one within easy reach. She shut off the lights and climbed into her own bunk with her datapad, knowing sleep was a long way off for her yet. To her surprise, a message from Pierce was waiting for her when she powered it on.

_Inside compartment of your weapons case. In case she can't sleep. Don't make a fuss of it. - P_

Curiosity getting the better of her, Vette slid back out of her bunk and over to her bag. She opened it and dug into the compartment,smirking when she found a small canister of tea leaves. She wouldn't make a fuss of it to Tori, but she sure as hell would to Pierce later.

* * *

"You summoned me, My Lord?"

Darth Baras stood with his back to the door of his chambers on Dromund Kaas, not bothering to turn around to address his visitor.

"Yes. My assassins on Corellia have thus far failed me. My former apprentice has managed to eliminate the first two. I cannot risk further failures."

Baras paused, then slowly turned to face the figure in the doorway. A pair of red cybernetic eyes gazed back at him.

"Had you succeeded in your first attempts to dispose of the little whelp, you would already be at my right hand while I control the Dark Council." Baras hissed, lightning shooting from his fingertips to arc across the large figure standing in the doorway. A bark of harsh, manic laughter escaped the target as he jolted, his eyes flashing a brilliant scarlet. Baras stepped closer.

"To your credit, you at least managed to hold onto your life." Another volley of lightning flew from Baras's hands as he stepped closer still, until he stood mere inches from the other man.

"Your hatred for her sustained you, gave you the determination to survive to see her downfall, did it not? The pain, the fire - they nourished that hatred." Baras raised his hand and the man rose into the air, struggling for breath.

"You will find that you no longer truly need the air for which you struggle so valiantly," Baras said demurely. "However, your instinct is still to fight. Remarkable, isn't it? And that fear that drives you to struggle - feel how it makes that fire burn more intensely; feel it roaring in your chest until you think you can no longer bear it. Feel how the anger builds until you are consumed with the desire to lash out and destroy that which binds you."

Baras let his captive dangle a moment more before simultaneously releasing him and sending a massive wave of lightning through him, the impact knocking him to the floor, where he lay convulsing violently. The smell of burning flesh and overheated alloy filled the small chamber; Baras's nostrils flared inside the mask he wore, and he let out a low chuckle of satisfaction. He loomed over the crumpled figure on the floor.

"I have remade you, transformed you into something greater than your former self. Your body no longer suffers some of the weaknesses to which you nearly succumbed in that disgraceful display on Hoth. Your pain and your hatred, your passion, gave you the strength to overcome death. Now you begin again. Let this bounty of pain I have bestowed upon you feed your hatred. Draw strength from your fury and exult in the power I have freed in you."

With one last blast of lightning, Baras stepped through the doorway, then turned back to speak over his shoulder.

"You _will_ be victorious, Draahg, or you will wish that I had merely left you to slowly perish in that inferno."

* * *

Torilya found herself walking through a flat, grey landscape, unable to discern any sort of path at her feet. Her senses felt dulled, her body heavy. Nebulous shapes loomed at varying distances on the horizon, but no matter where she walked, none of them would shift into focus. She felt fear begin to rise in her throat; instinctively, she reached for her lightsaber, but it was not in its usual place at her hip. She balled her fists, trying to master the fear, but it only became more oppressive. Reaching out into the Force, she groped for any sort of energy, but it felt as if she were trying to pick up a very fine needle wearing large, puffy mittens. The shapes faded and flickered in the distance, then rearranged themselves, but still remained impossible to identify. Suddenly, she felt a presence brush by her side and wheeled around sharply, taking up a defensive crouch. The air around her seemed to thicken and shimmer, though nothing tangible was anywhere close by. She blinked, willing her eyes to focus, and when she opened them, she saw - just for the briefest moment - another set of eyes shining a few feet away in the odd, misty air. Brilliant green, slightly more round than oval - she recognized them as her own, as they once looked. She blinked again. A different pair of eyes flashed before her, this time deep blue. They lingered for a moment, shining at her warmly.

"Malavai," she whispered.

The gaze on her hardened, the deep blue shade morphing to pitch black, and she slammed her eyes shut, her breath coming rapidly. She knelt, pressing her palms firmly into the cold ground in an attempt to release some of the rush of emotion. Again she sensed a presence brushing against her, and she forced herself to open her eyes again. Her own eyes stared back at her again, this time flashing crimson before fading to a deep orange, then dissipating into the mist as quickly as they appeared. Refusing to blink this time, she tried to use the Force to push the mist aside, but it just seemed to push back. She stood, turning in a circle, then felt a presence at her back. She spun around, this time meeting the gaze of all three sets of eyes, which seemed to be advancing on her. Feeling multiple presences sliding around her now, Torilya once again slid into a crouch, whipping her head from side to side, trying to make out anything she could. Again she tried to push against the mist with the Force, but it just pushed back more intensely, pressing against her until she could not move.

The three sets of eyes seemed to draw closer still, and a distinct charge went up the back of Torilya's neck. She spun again, and three more sets of eyes had appeared in the mist behind her: an odd, inhuman red pair; another human set, dull orange; and yet one more set that was shaped exactly like her own but a deep, rich brown in color. The mist pressed harder against her; she was gasping for breath now, almost panicking, still unable to move. She screwed her eyes shut, gathering every ounce of will she had. With a shriek of rage and terror, she propelled herself forward through the air, her hands extended in front of her. Just as she managed to grasp something, everything went black. She squeezed with all her strength, desperate to feel the life drain away from whatever it was that had held her, when a hoarse sob tore through the darkness.

"Tori! Stop! Please!"

Tori wrenched her eyes open and instantly stilled, horrified. Her hands were wrapped around Vette's throat, pinning the girl against the wall in the rented room. She immediately released Vette, wrapping her arms around her own waist as she backed away. Shaking and covered in sweat, she sank onto her bunk, her knees giving out.

"Gods, Vette, I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I don't… I was dreaming, I suppose, and…" she trailed off.

Vette, pale and visibly shaken, raised a hand as if to quiet Tori while she caught her breath.

"I'm okay. It's okay. You were thrashing around, and I tried to wake you. Should have known better than to get too close while you were so out of it."

The two women sat in silence for a long time, both trying to calm themselves. After a few minutes, Vette picked up her datapad and checked the time, her hand still shaking a bit.

"Might as well get up, I guess. Sun will be up soon."

Torilya just looked at her, eyes still slightly unfocused. Vette stood up and started gathering her gear. When she'd gotten into her leathers and Tori still hadn't moved, she walked over and knelt in front of her friend.

"Tori. Look at me. I'm okay. You're okay," Vette said forcefully, reaching out and gripping the Sith's knees. Torilya looked at her again, blinking rapidly and shaking her head slightly.

"That's it, just focus on me for a sec. Tell me what we're doing today."

"More of Baras's assassins, should be tracking them…" Tori mumbled.

"Righto. Gotta stick it to His Tubbiness," Vette forced her tone to be as cheery and light as she could. "Where do we start? Did we hear anything else from the Hand weirdos?"

Tori gestured at her datapad. "Said they'd send coordinates as they got them." Her eyes were starting to look more focused; her voice was becoming stronger as she spoke.

"Okey dokey. So, shall I track down some lovely cantina caff while you get yourself suited up?"

Tori pulled a bit of a face, and Vette sighed internally in relief.

"Better than nothing, I suppose," Tori said ruefully.

"Coming right up!" Vette stepped out of the room. Once she was a safe distance from the door, she ducked into a corner, pulled her comm unit from her pocket, and placed a call.

"Report!" Pierce's tiny form barked at her.

"Good morning to you too," she sniped.

Pierce scrubbed a hand down his face and sighed.

"Sorry. Didn't sleep so well last night."

"Yeah, well, that makes you and our favorite Sith Lord. We had a bit of a situation."

Vette could see Pierce's shoulders tense at that despite the grainy image.

"What d'you mean? Is she all right? Are you compromised?" he rapid-fired at her.

"_We_ are fine, thanks for asking." Vette rolled her eyes. "She apparently had - I don't know, do Sith have nightmares? Whatever it was, it was intense, and I made the mistake of getting too close when I tried to wake her. She had me by the throat and against the wall before I knew what was happening, and she almost didn't snap out of it in time. I think my voice eventually got through to her, but…" Vette trailed off.

Pierce bent forward, placing his hands on his knees for a moment. When he straightened, his brow was creased.

"Shit. _Are_ you okay?" he asked.

Vette nodded. "Yeah. Freaked me the hell out, but I've had worse," she shrugged, remembering all too well the bite of the shock collar. "I'm worried about her, though. The dream or whatever was bad enough, but now I think she's freaked out over almost killing me. I was able to kind of talk her around, but she keeps giving me this look. I don't know what to do for her. She keeps talking about needing to stay focused, but..."

Pierce nodded, his face grim. "Right. Keep her talking about the mission. Get her moving. Fighting."

"I think we're still waiting on the Hand to get us more intel. We squashed two dudes yesterday… well, a droid and a dude. But I keep seeing little pockets of Imperial forces out here. Probably we could pick up some side work." Vette glanced at the time on her datapad. "I should get back. I told her I was gonna find us some caff. Next time, I'm making Too-Vee pack us some decent stuff."

"All right. Keep me apprised. Have her check in when she can. Pierce out."

"Have a nice day!" Vette said sarcastically to herself as she slid the comm back in her pocket and hurried off in search of the promised caff.

* * *

Melia emerged from her quarters to find her brother seated at the holoterminal, tapping away frantically.

"Aren't you a busy boy," she said, coming to stand beside him.

"Indeed."

"Finally writing your memoirs, then?"

He ignored her, continuing his work.

She shrugged, then went to flop in one of the uncomfortable lounge chairs, datapad in hand. She read silently for a few moments, then sighed.

"If you _are_ writing, I hope to hell it's better than this poor excuse for a romance novel. If I read one more description of bulging pectorals or firm, yet supple bosoms, I'm going to lose it."

Quinn snorted, but did not look away from his task.

"I see your taste in literature has not improved," he drawled snottily.

"And you could save me from it if you'd just tell me what you're up to."

Sighing, Quinn finally turned to look at his sister.

"I am putting my 'brilliant strategist brain,' as you put it, to work. After your, er, inspiring words earlier, it occurred to me that given my knowledge and connections, perhaps I can still help turn the tide of things after all, even if I cannot be at her side."

Melia threw her arms in the air in a dramatic gesture of triumph.

"_Finally_, he pulls his head out of his arse!"

"Yes. Now, do shut up before I am forced to kick yours."

Smiling, Melia stood up, walked over to Quinn, planted a smacking kiss on his forehead, and left him to his work.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Better late than never, I hope. _

* * *

Vette wrinkled her nose against the stench of singed fur as she gingerly rolled the mangled remains of a Selonian rebel over with her foot so she could check the corpse for anything of value. Yards ahead of her, Torilya was already leaping into another group of rebels, her lightsaber an orange blur. Vette quickly stowed the stims she found and, sighing, hurled a thermal grenade at the pack before running to catch up. Tori had already cut down two of the weaker ones by the time she was within shooting range, and as Vette lined up her first shot, she couldn't help feeling a little awe at the Sith's prowess in combat: Tori was simultaneously holding one aloft with the Force while she continued to strike at it with her saber and deflect blows from another rebel. A couple of quick, clean shots from Vette finished that one, and by the time she had her blasters recharged for a shot at the one Tori was toying with, it was down.

Looking around, Vette didn't immediately see any more Selonians, so she holstered her blasters and took a moment to catch her breath. This type of job - randomly culling groups of beings just because they happened to be in the way of someone's grand scheme - wasn't something she enjoyed or normally condoned, nor was it something Torilya typically went out of her way to do, but it seemed to be just what her friend needed for the moment, so Vette had encouraged her to take it. The Hand still hadn't contacted them with information about the next assassin, and Vette knew just hanging around waiting wasn't going to help Torilya's state of mind at all - Pierce had that right. _Maybe he's not as stupid as he looks_, she mused, jogging now to catch up with Tori, who seemed to be tracking something Vette couldn't see. _No problems with focus now_, she thought, seeing Tori crouch in preparation for another attack. Unholstering her blasters, Vette braced against a pile of debris and readied herself for another round, grimacing a bit.

"Gonna be sore tonight," she grumbled, squeezing off a shot as the rebel's stealth generator failed under Torilya's assault.

* * *

"Watch the comm," Pierce growled at Jaesa, who'd come in just as he disconnected with Vette.

Jaesa snorted. "You don't expect me to bow or some shit, do you?"

"Just. Do it." Pierce ground out, spinning on his heel and heading for the cargo hold.

Jaesa stood for a moment before walking to the holoterminal and pressing a few buttons, then sliding her personal comm from her robes and switching it on. Tossing it in the air, she used the Force to hold it aloft while she sauntered after Pierce. When she reached the cargo hold, she found him there pummelling one of the dummies, still in full armor. Leaning against the doorframe, she casually flipped her comm repeatedly like a coin in the air, still using the Force to manipulate it. She watched Pierce, waiting until sweat began to build on his brow before she spoke.

"So, do you love her?"

Pierce did not slow his strikes in the least.

"Thought… I told you… to watch… the comm," he grunted between hits.

Jaesa whipped her comm across the room, inches from his face, recalling it to her hand just before it hit the wall.

"Forwarding here, genius. We aren't going to miss anything from your precious Lord," she said snidely.

Pierce's only response was to speed up his blows to the dummy.

"Well?" Jaesa jeered.

With a final hit, Pierce sent the dummy crashing to the floor in pieces. He stood quietly for a moment, breathing heavily, before turning to level his gaze on Jaesa.

"What the fuck's it to you?"

"Ooh, my, such foul words," Jaesa began to slink towards him, her face taking on a childish pout. "She's really gotten under your skin, hasn't she? Don't think the rest of us didn't notice your little slumber party the night before she left."

Pierce stood in place and said nothing, his nostrils flaring slightly with each shallow breath. Jaesa slid behind him, one hand on his chest, and stood on tiptoe, her chest pressing into his back.

"But then, that's not the only slumber party you've had, is it?" she breathed in his ear. "Barely waited for Captain Sadsack to take off before you jumped right into those tight little pants of hers. Tell me, do you just get off on the rebound, or is she that good of a lay? Because maybe I should get in on that too -" she started to slide her hand down his torso "- unless you think you can handle us both."

With that, Pierce's hand shot to her wrist and he yanked her around to face him, dumping her unceremoniously on the floor.

"Listen, _little girl_," he hissed. "Whatever now-I'm-a-big-bad-Sith power trip you have going on is going to get you killed when you mess with the wrong person. And I'm not saying that won't happen on this ship. I will say this once: Grow up. Get your shit together. Or the rest of your life will be very lonely - and likely very short."

Jaesa, for once stunned into silence, stared up at him, swallowing hard. He started to walk out of the room, then turned back to face her again.

"You wanna know why she's worthy of love? Mine, yours, Vette - and yeah, Quinn's, too, if that's what it ever was. Yeah, she's Sith. But even her darkness is rooted in humanity. And until you figure that out, until you truly learn from her example, you'll be nothing but yet another completely unremarkable Sith who thinks she rules the universe, but in the end will die powerless and alone. Scares the hell out of you, doesn't it?"

With that, Pierce walked out, making his way back to the holoterminal. He routed incoming calls back to the main terminal, then sank onto the couch. He leaned back, allowing his head to drop onto the seatback, and forced himself to take a few deep breaths, reminding himself of what Tori had said of Jaesa during one of their recent conversations:

_I know she's beyond difficult, and she tries my patience as well. But, Pierce, remember - she's essentially relearning everything she's ever known, just as a small child might. She takes pushing her boundaries to the extreme, but I understand it in a way. She's had this immense power all along, but was kept on a leash, not allowed to fully explore this part of herself. Now, she gorges on this self-exploration to excess, but it must be so if she is ever to learn that discipline does not necessarily equal denying one's true nature or mindlessly following some bit of dogma, as the Jedi have taught her. She must have no questions or reservations about her chosen path. In time, she will learn that there is a difference between answering to one's own ideals and simply following whatever impulse strikes. But she must learn that for herself, and she cannot yet - she has yet to discover what her ideals and values truly are. It's my job to keep her tethered without making her feel trapped, to help her develop the tools she needs to be able to find that path, and it's no coincidence that she is in my charge. She would have suffocated to death under the Jedi, but she is too raw, too impressionable to survive more than a few days with virtually any other Sith. I've no doubt that her fate and mine are intertwined, even if I don't fully understand how yet myself. Though I at times lose my temper with her, I must remind myself of that._

As much as Pierce felt he could relate to and understand Tori, there were moments that she felt inscrutable to him, and that had been one. He never pretended to understand how she seemed to just _know_ things at times, but as he had yet to find himself arguing with the results, he'd come to implicitly trust her instincts.

"Doesn't make her less of a pain in the ass, though," he grumbled under his breath, then lifted his head to listen to the ship's sounds for a moment before groaning and letting it drop back again. Seconds later, Too-Vee clattered in.

"Master Pierce, I have thoroughly cleaned and disinfected every surface on this vessel. As our Lord has placed me in charge of medic's duties aboard ship in Master Quinn's absence, I thought it most prudent to ensure the ship's environment was sanitary and harboring no possible carriers of illness or infection. I must report that I do not believe Mistress Vette has arranged the medbay's inventory in the most efficient way. Perhaps my next order of business should be to properly catalog and store every item so that no time is lost in case of an emergency -"

"Right, knock yourself out," Pierce grumbled, making a shooing motion with a hand.

Too-Vee clanked away to the medbay. Pierce remained on the couch for quite a while, head back, one hand pinching the bridge of his nose. Finally, he sighed and heaved himself to his feet, heading back to the holoterminal to resume monitoring comm traffic.

* * *

Quinn glanced irritably at his datapad for the umpteenth time in several minutes, but the thing remained dark - no little blinking light to tell him the message he was waiting for had appeared. Sighing, he threw himself onto his bunk. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe slowly and deeply. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to pick up his holo and raise the Fury, just to check on Tori, but he knew the moment he disregarded her order would be the final blow to any remaining scrap of trust she may have had in him.

Against his better judgement, he allowed himself to think of her as he lay on his bed. His eyes still closed, he let visions of her float before him: her eyes looking into his from across the breakfast table; from beneath him as he cradled her in her - their - bed; flashing at him as she leapt into combat, wild and yet wholly in control; twinkling at him as she teased him. As residual fatigue pulled him further into his reverie, the sound of the ship's engines almost became an echo of her laugh, deep and throaty, and he could almost smell her distinct scent - a blend of the citrusy soap she used, the leatheris in her armor, and something uniquely _her_ that he couldn't quite identify.

Just as sleep began to fully take him over, suddenly the images before him shifted back to the usual nightmare: Torilya, towering over him with fury and pain in her eyes; Quinn at her feet in a useless heap, his chest burning from lack of oxygen, grief, and fear. This time, though, he was saved by the chime of his datapad pulling him back to the moment. Rubbing his eyes, he powered on the screen to see a message:

_Thanks for your note. Travels going great; holopics to follow - too many to attach here. Next trip I'll take you up on your kind offer of a free bunk. Love to the family. - Zee_

Tossing his datapad aside, Quinn leapt off his bed and all but ran to the ship's holoterminal. Sure enough, an encrypted message was waiting and several files showed waiting to download. He quickly began to decrypt the message, cursing under his breath at the slow machine. Finally, he was able to read it:

_You owe me. You know I hate messing about with Darths and their nonsense. Scoped your old office on Balmorra before I left. Same shithole. Some Imperial lackey looked to be squatting there, but no one of consequence. Someday you're going to tell me this whole story - or, at least, I'll get it out of Mel. Give her a hug for me. If this stuff gets you murdered in your sleep, never say I didn't warn you. - C9_

Rolling his eyes at the signature, Quinn sighed heavily. There was no way the ship's holoterminal was going to be able to handle decrypting the files, much less in any sort of timely fashion. He had no choice but to find a machine that could do it, and unfortunately, the one on the Fury was out of the question. He had only one other option that he could be certain of, and he really didn't want to take it. Squaring his shoulders, he recalled the images of Tori that had lulled him into his earlier daydreams, then strode purposefully to the ship's navigation terminal. He punched in some coordinates - perhaps with a bit of vehemence - then went to Melia's quarters.

"Be prepared for some time in hyperspace. We are on the move," he announced as he stuck his head into her doorway.

Melia arched an eyebrow at him from where she reclined on her bunk, still reading on her datapad.

"Oh?" she prompted him.

"Yes. I must make a stop on Balmorra."

Melia shrugged. "I'll check the weather reports before we land," she said sarcastically.

Quinn nodded brusquely and started to make his way back to his quarters. A couple steps out of the doorway, he stopped and looked back over his shoulder.

"Oh, by the way - Zanebi says hello."

Melia's eyes widened on hearing her friend's name, and she shot off her bunk and to the door.

"We are so not done discussing this, brother dear!" she shouted at Quinn's back as he disappeared into his quarters and shut the door.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Extra post this week - trying to catch up. Again, my disclaimer: I am taking some liberty with in-game conversations, events, and timelines. Any dialogue, etc. you recognize is obviously not mine. Thanks for reading, and feel free to drop me a line if you have feedback!_

* * *

It was well after nightfall when Torilya and Vette made their way back to their rented room, both of them dirty, bloodied, and sore. Much to her annoyance, Tori's new armor sported a nicely-sized gash on the right thigh where a rebel's vibroblade had gotten by her. The two women dropped their gear as soon as they got in the door and sat down hard on their respective bunks. Tori examined her damaged armor with a scowl.

"I never thought I would hear myself say so, but I wish Too-Vee were here to take care of this. I'd even welcome his idea of a proper meal right about now."

Vette chuckled. "Well, if you want to get changed, I think I saw a utility droid out there. I can see if it can clean our stuff and take care of that for you - and then go find us some food while it's working."

"Thank you, Vette, that actually sounds perfect," Torilya sighed gratefully as she peeled off her tight-fitting armor and let her hair out of its coil.

"You got it!"

Vette traded her own leathers for street clothes and gathered up their combat gear, surreptitiously sliding the small canister that was hiding in her weapons case into her pocket as she did so. Crossing the small room to the door, she stopped and looked at Tori, who had put on her sleep clothes and settled cross-legged on her bunk with her holocom in hand.

"Anything in particular you want me to try to find for you to eat?" Vette asked.

Tori shook her head. "Just bring back whatever looks edible. I'm hungry enough to eat those damn shoe-leather protein bars Too-Vee insists on packing."

Vette grinned, and then laughed as Tori, noticing her full arms, opened the door for her with the Force.

"Why thank you, Your Lordship," Vette drawled in a poor imitation of an Alderaanian noble.

"Next time I expect a curtsy," Tori shot back as the door closed behind the Twi'lek.

Alone in the room, Tori took several deep breaths as she rolled her head in circles, trying to loosen some of the day's tension from her neck. She looked at the holo unit in her hand, then exhaled and pressed a few buttons, squaring her shoulders as the call connected and a familiar, lean figure flickered into view.

"Captain. Wrath here. Status report, please."

Quinn's image stuttered a bit as he responded.

"Currently in hyperspace... sir. Apologies if transmission is subpar. All is well here. My passenger encountered no difficulties en route to our rendezvous, and as yet I've no reason to believe either of us are being pursued."

"Understood. I will not ask you to reveal your destination at this time. Do you have anything else to report, Captain? Again, need-to-know only."

"No, sir." Despite the poor quality of the image, Quinn's Adam's apple visibly bobbed as he spoke.

"Very well. My mission parameters remain unchanged. I remind you once more to maintain radio silence until otherwise instructed by myself or Lieutenant Pierce. Wrath out."

Tori cut off the transmission before Quinn could respond. She paused only for a few seconds before placing a second call. This time, the connection resolved much faster, and Pierce's form was much clearer.

"Lieutenant. How are things?"

Pierce grinned. "No bloodshed here yet. Got Broonmark testing the practice dummies to see if he can find a way to make 'em tougher. Figured that might keep him out of trouble a while."

Tori returned his smile, choosing not to address the lack of Jaesa-related news. "Wise move. Have you picked up any interesting chatter?"

"Hardly a peep. How are things planetside?"

Tori shrugged. "Not sure what the holdup is from the Hand. Spent the day squashing some rebels for the Imperial military. Apparently some overgrown cats were too much for them to handle. Not up to your caliber, for sure."

Pierce affected a swagger. "What can I say? Some of us are just born for greatness."

"Indeed." Tori smirked, then stifled a yawn. A few beats of silence passed before Pierce spoke.

"Glad you checked in. Been boring up here without you to beat on me. Looks like I should let you turn in, though."

Tori nodded reluctantly. "Vette's out trying to track us down some food. I - didn't sleep so well last night."

"Nightmares?"

Tori nodded again. Pierce schooled his expression, not allowing the worry he felt to show, though he knew she'd likely pick up on it anyway.

"Well, some people count barn animals - suppose you could count overgrown cats. Or let Vette tell you her life story; that chatter should put you out in no time."

Tori cracked a grin at that. "Helpful as always."

"'S my job."

"Goodnight, Pierce."

"'Night, Tori."

Vette clattered back into the room just as Tori was disconnecting. She held a tray with a few covered dishes, a steaming mug, and a pitcher of water precariously balanced on top. Tori quickly stood up and grabbed the pitcher and mug before they tumbled to the floor, inhaling deeply as the steam from the mug caught her nose.

"What's this?"

Vette shrugged. "Tea. Thought you might like some before bed."

"Mmm. And the cantina just happened to have this blend in stock, did it?"

Knowing she was busted, Vette just gave Tori a look.

"Did he give it to you or stash it?"

"Stashed it in my weapons case. Didn't find it until late last night. I have explicit instructions not to make a big deal of it, so… I didn't. Be nice."

"If I must."

Tori set the mug on her nightstand to steep and began to uncover the dishes as Vette set the tray down. The two women made quick work of the nerf stew - Tori highly suspected the meat was reconstituted dehydrated stock, but she didn't particularly care - and somewhat stale bread. Vette took the empty dishes and used cutlery back to the bar as Tori settled back onto her bunk with her cup of tea. She had just finished the last sips when Vette returned, laden down with their combat gear.

"It's not as thorough as what Too-Vee would have done, but it's better. I guess his obsessive programming is good for something after all."

Tori nodded, inspecting her repaired leggings. If she looked closely, she could tell they had been damaged, but on first glance they looked fine. She set the gear aside and climbed into her bunk; Vette mirrored her actions across the room. Both setting their weapons within easy reach, Tori killed the lights with the Force, feeling the effort in her entire body. She'd overdone it that day, she knew, especially given how poorly she'd slept the previous night. She only hoped the exhaustion and the tea would do their job.

"Vette?"

"Yeah?"

"Tell me more about Nok Drayen."

Vette smiled to herself as she began to talk quietly, monitoring the sound of Torilya's breathing the whole time. Once she heard it slow and become even, she let her voice trail off and closed her own eyes.

* * *

Quinn forced his hands to unclench after Torilya cut the transmission, the fedora he'd been attempting to clean now even more crumpled and bruised after their conversation. He'd seen the evidence of combat and fatigue in her face and physically ached to soothe her, to heal her wounds then whisper her to sleep as he'd done so many times before. He allowed himself a brief moment of self-pity before smacking the fedora into his palm and returning to his preparations. The best he could do for her now was successfully complete this task. Giving up on his hat, he turned his attention to an old datapad, a small bundle of wire and plasteel, and a compact soldering iron that lay on his bunk. As he fiddled with the wires, a tiny smile spread across his face. _Surely it won't hurt for me to take a little satisfaction from this endeavor as well,_ he mused as he worked. Balmorra was only twelve hours away; he had no time to waste.

* * *

A shrill beeping noise brought Torilya out of her bunk like a shot, her lightsaber flying from her nightstand and into her hand before her feet hit the floor. She looked around wildly for a moment before she placed the sound - her datapad was signaling an incoming message. Switching off her saber, she tossed it back onto her table as she picked up the datapad. An encrypted message waited for her, she assumed from the Hand. Shaking her head in disbelief at Vette still sleeping soundly across the room, she jabbed the girl in the ribs.

"Vette. Wake up."

Groaning slightly, Vette simply rolled away, clearly still not awake.

"_Vette_." Tori spoke sharply, still to no avail. Sighing, she backed up a few steps so that she was out of arm's reach, then raised a hand, palm up, curling her fingers toward her. Vette slowly came to an awkward sitting position, her head lolling back at an unsightly angle. Tori raised her other hand and made a tilting motion, bringing Vette's head more upright, then released it and sent a gentle "slap" of Force energy across the girl's cheek. Vette woke up swinging, as Tori knew she would.

"Damn it! What? What is it?"

"Message came in. Encrypted. I could take care of it, but you're faster." Torilya handed her the datapad.

Vette was blinking rapidly, obviously trying to shake herself alert.

"Sorry - you want me to what? Out of a dead sleep? I take back everything I ever said about you being nice," she grumbled. Despite her protests, though, her fingers were already flying over the datapad. She worked a moment, then handed the pad back to Tori.

"From the Hand, I'm guessing. Looks like coordinates. Finally got a handle on assassin number three's plans, maybe?"

Tori skimmed the message, then nodded.

"Yes. Get up, we've no time to lose. These are for another so-called secret landing strip, but something tells me our path to it won't be clear."

Vette grumbled under her breath melodramatically as she pulled on her leathers. Tori was dressed and ready before Vette was halfway put together, so she looked at her friend as she began to lace up her boots.

"Your turn to find caff. No way I can shoot straight in this condition otherwise."

Tori pulled a face, but headed out the door to the bar.

A couple of hours later, Torilya and Vette were still fighting their way to the coordinates given by the Hand. They'd found the area easily enough - it was close to where they had eliminated the first two assassins - but getting to the exact point was proving difficult, as they encountered heavy resistance before they even got to the building in question. Torilya was once again in her element, her lightsaber arcing through the air as she spun and leapt, feinted and struck, dodged and parried. She so effectively kept the attention of their foes that it was all Vette could do to line up her shots quickly enough to be of help. Vette's hands ached from repeatedly squeezing the triggers on her blasters, and her arms screamed every time she raised them to shoulder level to shoot, but she pushed through it determinedly.

Finally, they were able to stop and catch their breath, tucked back in a corner along the outer wall of the building that was their destination. Vette rummaged in her jacket pockets and came up with a couple of protein bars and a few stims. She handed one of each to Tori, who accepted the protein bar but shrugged off the offer of the stim.

"Don't like those. I can't sense clearly when I use them," she explained briefly.

Vette nodded as she jabbed herself in the thigh with one, hoping it would bolster her enough to finish the job. She dug in her pockets once more and came up with a small flask of water, which she also offered to Tori. The two wolfed down the bars and sipped at the water in silence, then Torilya spoke.

"Rest for a moment. I'll scout ahead and see what's waiting for us inside."

Vette began to protest, but Tori raised a hand to shush her.

"Don't be foolish, Vette. I have resources that you don't, and I'm not going far. I need you to stay sharp and watch my back, not be a hero."

Vette let loose a childish gesture, but obeyed. Tori crept away, returning shortly.

"Looks like a pretty straight shot in there, actually. Maybe we're catching a bit of a break."

"When you jinx us, I reserve the right to say 'I told you so' without getting choked."

They quickly and quietly made their way through the lower levels of the building and up to the roof, where the landing pad supposedly would be. When they emerged onto the roof, though, it was eerily quiet, and an empty ship sat unattended. Torilya turned to Vette with a ferocious glare.

"Don't even."

Vette held up her hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Wasn't gonna. Maybe we just beat him here."

Torilya shook her head slowly.

"No. Something doesn't feel right."

As if on cue, her holocom chimed quietly. Tori pulled it from her pocket and answered, shooting Vette a pointed look when the image of a thin woman with an odd manner of speaking materialized.

"Wrath, I mark your position. The third of the three secret landing strips. I am Servant Eleven of the Hand. You were told to expect my call."

"Yes. Perhaps you can explain why it is so quiet up here." Tori ground her teeth as she spoke, clearly fighting to maintain control.

"Your third target arrived earlier than expected. I tracked his landing. I lost visual surveillance."

"You. _Lost._ Him?" Torilya's eyes were flashing a deadly orange now, and her knuckles turned white where she gripped her lightsaber.

"We are still working to locate Darth Vowrawn's secret headquarters. If we have not found it, the assassin is unlikely to have found it. Your mission still has not failed."

"No. _Your_ mission, however, is looking very much like a failure," Tori spat. Behind her, Vette stifled a giggle.

"We will locate the headquarters. You will still be able to meet Vowrawn. We ask for your patience. I will contact you as soon as we have learned of its location or if we learn of the assassin's whereabouts. Rest assured the Hand knows this is of utmost importance. Eleven out."

Tori roared in frustration as the woman's image disappeared. Spotting a chunk of debris several feet away, she seized it with the Force and whipped it into the side of the unoccupied ship so hard that it lodged deeply within the durasteel, causing the side of the ship to buckle with the impact.

"Well, that'll screw up his getaway, at least," Vette quipped.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: What is this sorcery? Three updates in one week? That's what time off work does for me, apparently..._

* * *

Quinn sat on the tiny bridge of his ship, the pouch that usually held his emergency medkit in his lap, mentally going over his plan once more. They would be docking at Balmorra soon, and he knew his time there would be limited; he must be efficient. The riskiest part was just ahead - in his unregistered ship, he couldn't very well just cruise into Sobrik, so they would be docking at the Republic orbital station under the guise of bringing medical supplies for the resistance. The ship's navicomputer dinged, letting him know they were within 15 minutes of arrival, just as Melia stuck her head in the doorway.

"What's the plan?"

"We will dock soon, and then I will go down to the surface, take care of business, and hopefully return within a few hours. However, if I do not make it back to the ship in the allotted time, you will depart on your own, and I will attempt to rendezvous with you later, assuming I am alive and free."

"Okay, Malavai, enough of the cryptic bantha crap. Tell me what you're doing, and I will go with you and watch your back. You know damn well I can shoot just as well as you can - where do you think you learned it? Certainly not from Father."

Quinn sighed heavily. "Melly… I can't risk it. I cannot knowingly put you in danger. I could not bear it if something happened to you, too, not after-" he broke off, swallowing hard.

Melia's face softened on hearing her childhood nickname slip from his lips.

"Look, I get that you worry - but you know I can fend for myself. Besides, has it occurred to you that _I _don't want anything to happen to _you_, numbskull?"

A tight grin flickered across Malavai's face, but it quickly soured.

"The difference is that you've done nothing to deserve-"

"Oh, _shut it_," Melia roared. "If you're going down there with some stupid, supposedly noble idea that if you die trying to pull off whatever it is you're doing it will fulfill some grander purpose, I will skip the drugs this time when I knock you out, and then I will turn this ship around and ditch you on Tatooine. Do you hear me, Malavai? _Enough_."

"I think they heard you on the planet's surface," he grumbled.

The two siblings stared each other down for a moment, neither speaking. Quinn was just opening his mouth to speak when the ship's computer chimed again, signaling an incoming message. Quinn put a finger to his lips to indicate that Melia should stay quiet, receiving an exasperated eyeroll in return. He cleared his throat, then pressed the button to accept the call.

"Republic docking authority to unidentified cargo vessel. Please respond with valid docking authorization code."

Quinn took a deep breath, then rattled off a code in a flawless Corellian accent, mentally sending a prayer to whatever entity might be listening that Zee had come through for him. The line was silent for a moment, then a crackle issued from the speaker.

"Code recognized and authorized. You may dock at leisure. Bay 42. Safe travels."

Quinn exhaled shakily, then turned to see Melia looking at him quizzically. He grinned at her, visibly relieved.

"Remind me later to send Zanebi a proper gift as congratulations on her recent promotion to Cipher."

Melia shook her head in disbelief, but she was grinning, too.

"So - now what?" she stared at Malavai as she spoke, still unwilling to back down.

"Fine. If you insist on coming along, at least go arm yourself. I have spare blasters locked in the safe in my quarters, and you can carry one of my extra kn-" Quinn stopped short as Melia calmly opened her jacket to display two compact blasters tucked snugly into a shoulder holster. He cleared his throat again.

"I see. Well, come along, then. The six crates by the airlock are coming with us. They are ostensibly medical supplies for the resistance. We may be questioned, but I'd be surprised if we were scrutinized further. As the Republic is not supposed to officially have a presence here, my supposition is that security is likely fairly lax. I will explain the rest once we are en route to our planetside destination."

Melia snapped a salute. "Aye, Captain."

Quinn threaded his medkit pouch onto his belt, checked his blaster and knives, and pulled his fedora down over his head.

"Here we go, then," he said, leading Melia to the airlock.

The two made their way through the orbital station and to the shuttle that would take them to the surface. Quinn was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when a uniformed officer approached them.

"Sorry, folks. Just need to make a quick check of your load there. Strictly procedure."

Before Quinn could speak, Melia was stepping in front of him.

"Sorry, handsome, but I don't get paid unless this stuff is personally delivered on time and untouched," she drawled without a trace of an Imperial accent, sounding every bit the consummate spacer. "You know how paranoid _certain folks_ can be. Surely a few crates of medpacks aren't worth costing me my pay _and_ the fuel I would have wasted getting here?" As she spoke, she treated the officer to a cheeky wink and a dazzling smile.

"Well…" the officer hedged, looking Melia over with a lack of subtlety that made Quinn's jaw clench.

"I'll sign whatever you need me to," she swayed closer, fishing a datapad from the man's jacket and handing it to him. "If I can make this delivery fast enough, I might even have time to let you buy me a drink planetside before I take off."

The officer grinned. "Well, now, if you're the working lady, shouldn't you be the one buying drinks?"

Quinn let out a strangled cough. Melia threw her head back and let out a throaty chuckle as she thumped Quinn on the back.

"Moxie. I like that. Excuse my associate, here. Our last stop was Tatooine and the poor dear inhaled too much sand. All right, handsome, first round's on me. What do you say?" she finished with a subtle, sharp jab to Quinn's ribs.

After a few keystrokes on his datapad, the officer held it out to Melia.

"Just your name there, gorgeous. Maybe a holofrequency, too?" he leered.

Melia laughed again. "You'll have to earn that one, darlin'," she purred as she quickly input a name. "Are we good here, then?"

"For now," the officer smirked, tucking the datapad back into his jacket.

"Come on, then, buster, let's see those muscles move!" she looked at Quinn and jerked her head toward the shuttle. He glared at her as he hefted the pallet holding the crates forward, behaving as if they were heavy. Melia followed him, turning to toss a kiss over her shoulder at the officer, who grinned stupidly at her. As they settled into the shuttle, she leaned over to Quinn.

"You can thank me later for saving your backside. I'll be patient."

Quinn just huffed at her in reply.

Once the shuttle touched down on the surface, Quinn led them to a locker in the Bugtown cantina. He punched in a combination and it popped open, allowing him to pull out a few items and stash them in the inside pockets of his jacket. Then he made quick work of obtaining a rented landspeeder for them to use, and they were off, dodging the odd squad fighting nests of Colocoids. Once they were out of sight of the Republic base, Quinn slowed, quieting the engines, and spoke.

"I have need of my old office computer. It is the only machine that I can access at the moment that I am certain has the capacity to process the files Zanebi was able to procure for me and that I can safely - relatively speaking - use to send the message that I hope to be able to send once I have examined the files. The equipment on the Fury would be able to do what I need, but that is not an option, nor is simply walking into any large Imperial base given my current situation. I do not know yet what, if any, actions Baras has taken against me, and I must stay ahead of him if I am to help my lord accomplish her goal."

"So you're telling me we have to sneak into Sobrik?"

"Precisely. We will find a suitable place to offload these empty crates, then once we are close, we will hide the speeder. I have a stealth generator that we will use to get to my old office, and then we will have to disable the security system and possibly incapacitate anyone inside. It is highly likely I will have to kill an Imperial officer in cold blood. I warn you now, you are about to see a side of me that you are not accustomed to seeing."

Quinn spoke brusquely without turning to look at Melia, clearly every bit the Imperial Captain only in that moment. Malavai, the man, had been left on the ship. Melia shuddered a bit, but just leaned against her brother's strong back and nodded her understanding. Quinn opened the throttle and the speeder roared off.

A short while later, Quinn pulled the speeder into a narrow crevice in a rocky hillside a couple of klicks from Sobrik. Silently, he offered Melia a hand off, then stood and observed her for a moment.

"You can wait here," he said quietly, but Melia was already shaking her head furiously.

"Forget it."

"Fine. Stay close. We'll go the whole way in under stealth. I don't know the extent of their current security measures, but I'm willing to bet they are heightened with the recent uptick in resistance activity."

It was slow, awkward going huddled together under the stealth field, but eventually they made it to a spot in the perimeter Quinn knew to be slightly less protected than the rest. They collectively held their breath as they made their way inside. Just as Quinn remembered, it was a hub of activity, with troops and civilians all bustling about their business, though none particularly happily. _Good_, he thought, _we're less likely to be identified should something go wrong. _Motioning silently to Melia, he pointed them in the direction of his old office, and they slowly made their way through the crowds, careful to stay at as much of a distance as possible to avoid anyone hearing the faint buzz of their stealth generator.

All too soon, they were standing at his old door, which was sealed shut. Quinn made an exasperated face, but quietly pulled a slicing tool from a jacket pocket and went to work. Melia watched him for a moment, then, suppressing a sigh, snatched the tool out of his hand and quickly finished the job. Quinn then gestured at the security camera and held up a finger. He drew a vibroknife from his leg holster and - so quickly that Melia barely saw his hand move - sent it flying at the cluster of wires at the camera's base, severing them cleanly. Returning the knife to its holster, he pointed at the camera, then held up two fingers and gestured to the door, letting Melia know there were two more cameras inside. She nodded, and together they quietly shouldered the door open and crept inside.

A young, scrawny lieutenant sat at the desk inside, his feet propped up and his head lolling over the back of his chair. A soft snore escaped his nose, and Quinn rolled his eyes at Melia, then beckoned her to follow him to a panel on the wall. He pointed at it, then up at the cameras. She nodded and took the slicing tool from him again, rendering the cameras useless in just a few quick movements. Quinn walked them back over to the doorway, gesturing that Melia should stay around the corner under stealth. She made a face at him, but nodded her agreement. Drawing his blaster, Quinn made his way back toward the desk, stepping as softly as possible, but when he was just a couple of paces away, the lieutenant woke with a start.

"Oi! Who the -"

One muffled shot rang out, and the lieutenant slumped over his desk, a small hole directly between his eyes. Melia flinched, but made her way into the office, still under stealth. Quinn, his expression inscrutable, was calmly hoisting the lieutenant's body from the chair to rest against the wall on the floor, out of his way.

"Can you get the door resealed?" he murmured as he pulled what looked to be a high-capacity data chip from his pocket and set to work at the holoterminal.

"On it," Melia whispered, grateful for something to do.

Quinn worked busily for several moments while Melia dealt with the door. After some doing, she was able to get it to seal, but she knew it was still vulnerable.

"Not to put pressure on you, but I can't promise that's going to hold," she said quietly. Quinn grunted an acknowledgement but did not look up from his work. Feeling a bit useless, Melia crouched against the wall - as far away from the lieutenant's corpse as she could - and waited quietly. Finally, Quinn let his head fall back briefly, exhaling deeply. When he brought his head level again, Melia could see a look of utter satisfaction on his face. He input a few more keystrokes, then pulled the datachip out of the terminal and pocketed it once more.

"What-" Melia started to ask, but Quinn cut her off with a sharp shake of his head, flicking his eyes around the room. Melia frowned, ready to protest, then realized he was trying to tell her that he couldn't be sure the room wasn't bugged. She nodded at him and leaned back against the wall again. He held up a finger, indicating he had one more thing to do before they could leave. She rolled her eyes and gave him a "get on with it" gesture, which he returned with an impolite gesture of his own in a rare display of mischievousness. Smirking, she watched him quickly remove the memory core from the holoterminal and place it into the pouch on his belt, from which he then pulled a bundle of wire and plasteel. He carefully inserted what looked like a test tube into the middle of it, hooking a wire into the top that was also connected to an old datapad he held. Gingerly, he crouched to tuck the bundle into the empty space once occupied by the memory core, then set the datapad on top of the desk, pausing to enter a brief set of commands.

Rising, he gestured to Melia to wait by the door. He turned to face the lieutenant's body where it lay on the floor, drew himself to attention, executed a sharp salute, then slid into parade rest and bowed his head for a brief moment. When he looked up, his lips were tightly drawn, but he otherwise looked calm. He strode to Melia quickly, taking her elbow, then switched the stealth generator on and propelled them out the door. They moved more quickly this time, and within a few moments they were clear of Sobrik's borders and making their way back to the speeder. Just as they reached it, Quinn pulled her to a stop, turning to face the direction of his former office. Before Melia could ask what he was doing, a plume of smoke and flame erupted from the distance, and a slow smirk spread across Quinn's face.

Mounting the speeder, they rode back to the Republic base in silence, save for the noise of the speeder's engines. When they arrived, Quinn turned to Melia, handing her a credit stick.

"Why don't you see if there's anything decent to be had in that cantina while I handle the speeder? I could do with a break from ship's rations."

Melia grinned at him and dashed off. They made quick work of their respective errands, then made their way back to the shuttle, Melia's arms overflowing with bags and bottles. Just as they were about to disembark on the orbital station, Quinn leaned over to speak in her ear.

"You know, you may want to hand those to me and hide yourself under the stealth generator. Your boyfriend's likely to be looking for you."

"He'll recognize you, too, you know."

"Doubtful. He never looked at my face. Pretty certain he wasn't focused on yours, either."

Unable to give him the smack he so richly deserved, Melia settled for an elbow to his side. When they disembarked, though, the officer from earlier was nowhere to be found.

"Men," Melia snorted. "So fickle."

Laughing, they hurried to the airlock and aboard the little ship. Melia went to the tiny galley to arrange the spread she'd picked up for them while Malavai got them cleared for departure and into flight. Once they were safely on their way, he joined her. She immediately rounded on him.

"Okay. You can't hide now - what the hell did you do down there?"

Once again, a triumphant grin spread across Quinn's face.

"Unless I'm mistaken, I've just given my lord - albeit indirectly - the last tool she needs to finish destroying Baras's support structure. Now all she must do is continue to push and he will fall."


	10. Chapter 10

As the last crumbs of the haul from the cantina on Balmorra disappeared, Quinn kicked back in his chair in a rather uncharacteristic sprawl, holding his glass out to Melia for a refill from one of the several bottles she'd procured. She poured him a fresh round of the thick, dark ale, topping off her own glass as well. The meal had been quiet, both siblings seemingly lost in thought. Melia couldn't quite shake the image of the Imperial lieutenant slumping over his desk, dead before he knew what had hit him. Despite the naive, privileged image her occupation as a schoolteacher in a small private school on Dromund Kass afforded her, she was not completely unaccustomed to violence - couldn't be, growing up in a family full of career military and Intelligence personnel. Still, the idea that Malavai, whom she had all but raised as her own after their mother's disappearance - and later their father's death - despite their relatively close proximity in age, could be capable of such an act shook her. She knew it was by no means the first life he had taken, but there was something unsettling about theoretical knowledge of something like that suddenly becoming first-hand. Melia pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, and took a long pull of her drink, then nearly jumped when she felt Malavai's hand on her arm.

"I warned you," he said gently.

"I know."

A moment's silence passed, both of them turning their attention to their drinks.

"It's not as if I pretended to myself that you'd never shot a man before," she finally said quietly, "but the fact that it was someone wearing the uniform you normally wear, who had sworn himself to the same cause as you, literally sitting where you once sat…"

Melia trailed off as Malavai drained the rest of his glass before running a hand through his hair, making the parts that had been smashed flat by his hat suddenly stand on end. He refilled his glass, then silently held up the bottle in offering to her. She nodded at him, and as he poured, he spoke.

"I have killed for many reasons. All of them felt justified, if not personally, then by the larger purpose I believed I served. Today was no exception, but that makes it no less regrettable. The difference, perhaps, is the driving purpose."

Malavai paused as if searching for words, then turned to look directly into Melia's eyes.

"That young man swore, as I did, to die for the Empire if necessary. Patriotism is a powerful master. Yet as I have learned all too well, it is too easily twisted to serve private, selfish agendas. Perhaps I am merely doing just that to justify my actions. However, I believe with all of my heart that I serve the Empire now more than ever. Now, I serve out of love, not duty. As I love her, I also believe she holds the key to the Empire's future. Therefore, by loving her, by acting in her interests, I also serve. By killing him to aid her, I kill in the Empire's service."

Melia frowned. "Could that not also have been said when you attempted to kill her on Baras's orders? Because you supposedly believed in him and acted in his interests, by killing her, you would have killed in the Empire's service?"

"It could have."

"I don't understand."

"My service to Baras was born of necessity. I was loyal to him only out of a sense of duty, as he salvaged what was left of my military career, miserable as that was. I believed that in serving him, I could continue in some small way to serve the Empire. I never pretended that he had any regard for my interests; only my skills and how they might be useful to him. However, I also did not realize how twisted and cruel - and insane - he truly was until it was far too late. I believed I could not extricate myself, that the damage was done...that no matter what I did, as long as I remained involved, someone I loved would be killed - and likely not quickly or without enduring indescribable torture first."

"So you seriously were trying to sacrifice yourself but make it look like a murder plot?"

"In a manner of speaking. I'd accepted, though, that her death was a calculated risk, and that, perhaps, was my biggest failure of all. In that sense, I did betray her."

"How do you figure?"

"I allowed my fear of Baras to make me lose faith in her. I believed she would react to my betrayal without thought just as any other Sith would. And rather than trusting her to help find us a way out of the situation, I decided my way was best."

Skipping the glass altogether this time, Malavai swigged directly from one of the bottles.

"In other words, I treated her like less than she is. And I don't blame her if she never forgives me for that."

Not knowing how to respond, Melia stood and began clearing the mess, a little unsteadily - the two of them had made quite a dent in the supply of ale. A few moments later, the sound of Malavai giggling in his seat like a schoolgirl stopped her short.

"I do believe you are drunk, brother dear."

"No. Well, yes. But…" he snorted, "I was just remembering how it felt to watch my office blow sky-high. Can't ever let Pierce know I learned something from him after all."

"Pierce? Who?"

But Malavai was lost in another fit of laughter.

* * *

Aboard the Fury, the three remaining occupants were all beginning to feel - and behave - a bit like caged animals. Since her confrontation with Pierce, Jaesa had mostly kept to her quarters; Pierce assumed she was sulking. Broonmark had taken to stalking Too-Vee, which was amusing for a while, but Pierce was growing weary of hearing the droid's exclamations every time the Talz popped out of stealth and startled him. Pierce himself could do nothing but pace and check the comm every few minutes, paranoid that he'd missed a call from the surface. Vette had contacted him shortly after the Hand had notified Tori that they'd lost track of the third assassin, and she hadn't had to say much for Pierce to understand what that setback had done for Tori's state of mind.

Pierce was just beginning to contemplate how truly foolish it would be to ask Broonmark to spar with him when Too-Vee clattered in, a small crate in his hands.

"Master Pierce, I have completed the organization of the medbay, despite the distractions of Master Broonmark. I have here what appear to be some of Master Quinn's personal effects. As I was informed he was no longer sharing Lord Torilya's quarters, I was not sure where to place them."

"Let me see."

Too-Vee handed Pierce the box. There were only a few things inside: a very worn, old pair of gloves, what appeared to be a holoportrait unit, a wrapped parcel that felt like clothing, and two datapads. Pierce removed the datapads and handed the box back to Too-Vee.

"Find a place for that in cargo. Did you examine the datapads?"

"No, Master. Protocol would dictate that decision to be left to Lord Torilya."

Pierce merely grunted an acknowledgement.

"Do you require anything at this time, Master Pierce?"

"No. 'S all."

"Very well. I shall be in the hold." Too-Vee hesitated a moment, then spoke again. "Master Pierce, might I make a request?"

Pierce gave him a "go ahead" gesture.

"Would you perhaps ask that the Talz desist with his… exercises? They are most distracting, and my circuitry is not designed to withstand-"

"Yeah, yeah; I'll talk to him."

"Oh, thank you, Master!" Too-Vee bustled off.

Pierce flipped the datapads over in his hands. Tori had always been fairly adamant that the crew have their rights to privacy - a luxury Pierce was not accustomed to coming from the military - but he wasn't sure Quinn deserved that luxury given recent events. One of the datapads was clearly much older than the other and had something etched on the back, though the etching had become worn and faint with time and use. The other was a standard datapad of the same type that they all carried. Setting the older one aside, Pierce powered the other on. Upon examining it, he deduced that it simply held a copy of the crew's medical records, likely something Quinn carried with him when not working aboard ship. Slightly disappointed, he powered the datapad off and set it aside. Picking up the other, he powered it on, only to be met with a message requesting security credentials. Snorting in derision, he powered it back off, holding both in his hands as he resumed pacing.

Pierce was certain that the second pad likely held information that would shed light on the "incident," as he'd taken to calling it in his head, but he knew it wasn't his place to delve into it, as much as he might want to. He wasn't sure that handing them over to Tori right away was wise, either, but he didn't want to make it appear that he'd been holding out on her. Exhaling roughly, he carried the datapads into his quarters and tucked them under his mattress to deal with later. As he stepped back out into the corridor, Jaesa met him at his doorway, her face drawn, but her expression unusually calm.

"Lieutenant," she greeted him coolly. "Has Broonmark finished his work on the practice dummies?"

"Think so, yeah."

"Very well. I'll be in the hold." She walked off, training saber in hand.

Pierce shook his head in consternation, then went to resume his pacing in the lounge.

* * *

"Servant One to Servant Eleven. Come in, please."

"Eleven here."

"We have received a large encrypted file from an anonymous source, with an attached message that we believe alludes to the Wrath's mission on Corellia. We are still decrypting the data, but we have determined that the transmission originated on Balmorra. We are not certain how the sender located us, but we have our suspicions as to the sender's identity. Once we have decrypted the data and ascertained its validity, we will forward you further instructions. For now, maintain surveillance protocol."

"Understood. Shall I convey this news to the Wrath?"

"Negative. She is already treacherously on edge. We mark her movements; she is assisting the Imperial war effort. She is best occupied there until we can direct her with certainty."

"Very well. I will await instruction. Eleven out."

Servant One disconnected, then turned to Servant Two.

"What do you make of this?"

"I sense sincerity where I once sensed conflict. Determination and regret in equal measure. The latter feeds the former. We underestimated, then and now."

"Her, or him?"

"The latter feeds the former. We must tread carefully."

"Notify me when you have been able to review the data."

Servant Two inclined his head in agreement and slid back into the shadows.


	11. Chapter 11

Vette had seen Tori in enough foul moods to know that the quieter she was, the more volatile the situation. Aside from what was absolutely necessary to communicate with the personnel at the Imperial central command base in Coronet City - and with Vette and their small strike team as they worked through clearing Republic troops from the Coronet Arms Hotel - Tori hadn't breathed a word since damaging the shuttle that had brought the third assassin. In a strange way, Vette was grateful: Tori's anger was granting her focus. Her reflexes were as sharp as ever, her instincts in the field dead on. Her pace was relentless, but again Vette just pushed on, unwilling to disrupt Tori's inertia by showing weakness.

By the time they completed their mission at the hotel and returned to base to debrief, it was well into the night. After congratulating them on a job thoroughly and efficiently done, Lord Malichose had offered them bunks at the base, but Tori refused. She and Vette had headed back to their room, unusually quietly - Tori was still seething, and Vette was just too tired to talk. But when they arrived, Tori said something that surprised Vette.

"You're welcome to stay here if you wish, but I believe I will head back to the Fury for a while. I do not believe we will hear from the Hand tonight, and I want my own bed and some decent caff for a change."

"Music to my ears," Vette replied wearily. "I'll go get our stuff."

Tori merely nodded, pulling out her holocom. As Vette hurried off to get the few things they'd left behind in the room, Tori placed a call to the Fury. Jaesa's image materialized almost immediately.

"Master," she greeted Tori.

"Hello, Jaesa. Vette and I are preparing to return to the ship for a brief rest; I just wanted to let you know to expect us."

Surprise flickered across Jaesa's features, but she composed herself quickly.

"Very well, Master. Is everything all right?"

"We are fine," Tori's tone was clipped and invited no further questions.

Jaesa merely nodded. "Lieutenant Pierce is sleeping. Shall I wake him to alert him?"

"No, that won't be necessary. Just make sure Broonmark does not mistake us for intruders."

"Indeed, Master. We'll see you shortly."

Jaesa disconnected. Tori stood in place for a moment, her brow furrowed. Her apprentice was not normally inclined to speak so demurely or with such brevity; it was disconcerting, though not entirely unwelcome. Vette's voice broke into her thoughts before she could ponder the situation further.

"Only thing left is the dust bunnies. Let's get out of here."

Silently, Tori took some of the load from the exhausted Twi'lek, and together they shuffled off toward the lift that would take them to their ship's airlock.

* * *

As soon as Jaesa disconnected, she turned around to find a bleary-eyed Pierce looming over her.

"Master and Vette are returning to the ship," she said simply.

"She - they - okay?" he barked hoarsely.

Jaesa shrugged. "She says they're fine. I sense anger and frustration in her, but she is in control."

Pierce nodded. "You go tell Broonmark; I'll go power up the damn droid. Sure they'll need repairs."

No sooner than Too-Vee had whirred off to "fluff our Lord's pillows" (Pierce barely choked back a laugh at that), the sound of the security code being entered at the airlock summoned Pierce and Jaesa to greet their lord and shipmate. The two women stumbled in, both dropping their loads immediately, causing Too-Vee to nearly trip over himself in his haste to gather the mess. Pierce extended a hand to each of them, pulling them out of the droid's path. Tori gave him a tight smile, then mumbled something about wanting to clean up and hastily retreated for the refresher. Jaesa disappeared to the galley, and Pierce pulled Vette over to the sofa to sit.

"You look like hell," he said with a frown.

"I passed exhausted a few dozen kills ago," Vette replied dryly.

"I'm serious. You need to rest. Go lie down in the medbay; I want Too-Vee to check you over."

"Yeah, yeah, I will. Look, coming back here tonight was her idea, and I'm glad of it, but she is seriously pissed and… and I don't know what. She's barely said a word since the call from the Hand."

"I'll handle it. Go."

Vette opened her mouth as if to make a snappy retort, but a huge yawn cut it short. She just stood and shuffled off, visibly limping, Too-Vee hot on her heels.

Unsure whether he should go check on Tori, Pierce sat on the edge of the sofa, ready to spring, though he wasn't quite sure to what end. Just as he decided he would risk going to check on her, Tori appeared, obviously having freshened up and dressed in clean sleep clothes. Silently, she sat next to Pierce, drawing her legs underneath her. He decided to just take his cues from her, opting to offer her a smile rather than beginning to ask questions. Before more than a minute passed, Jaesa reappeared, carrying a tray.

"I thought you might be in need of refreshment, Master," she offered. "I've prepared some tea, or there's cold water here, or some wine."

"Thank you, Jaesa," Tori said, struggling to keep her tone neutral. "Water would be lovely."

Jaesa poured her a glass, then looked around.

"Where is Vette?"

Pierce spoke up. "Sent her to the medbay for a scan, just in case. Think she's pretty exhausted." Tori visibly winced at that.

"I'll look in on her."

Jaesa left the room, leaving Tori free to give Pierce a baffled look. Pierce shrugged. Another moment's silence passed between them before Tori finally spoke.

"I'm afraid I've interrupted your sleep again, Lieutenant."

Pierce barked a laugh. "Haven't slept worth a damn since you left the ship."

Tori looked at him evenly, then stood and extended her hand to him. He looked at her quizzically, but allowed her to pull him to his feet and lead him to his quarters. She nudged him onto his bunk, then bent to drop a kiss on top of his head. As she straightened, he caught her wrist.

"Stay? No funny business."

She started to hesitate, but exhaled shakily and nodded once, sinking down onto the bunk next to him. He gathered her into his arms, tucking her against him firmly, and within moments, they both were sound asleep.

Too-Vee was finishing his scan of Vette when Jaesa stuck her head in the medbay door.

"Mistress Jaesa, I have concluded that Mistress Vette is suffering from exhaustion, soreness from general overexertion, and complications from minor overuse of stims. She requires rest. I have administered a muscle relaxer and a pain reliever, but she has refused a sedative."

"Thank you, Too-Vee. I'll take it from here."

Vette attempted to haul herself to a sitting position.

"The hell you will; I'll end up your punching bag."

Jaesa put a hand out in a placating gesture.

"Relax. I just brought you something to drink."

Warily, Vette accepted the glass of water Jaesa offered.

"Uh, thanks."

Jaesa hesitated, then took a deep breath before speaking very rapidly.

"If you'd like, I can try to use the Force to help you recover a bit. I'm no healer, but I may be able to speed your body's natural recovery processes along a little."

Vette stared at her incredulously for a beat before responding.

"Um, okay, I guess? Just don't, like, go rooting around in my thoughts or whatever."

Jaesa rolled her eyes. "I'm not that desperate for entertainment," she said, a hint of the usual acidity creeping back into her tone. "Lie back and relax."

Vette sank back onto the bunk, forcing herself to close her eyes. Jaesa bowed her head for a moment, centering herself, then placed her hands gently on Vette's shoulders. A dim, brief flare of Force aura surrounded them both. Exhaling deeply, Jaesa sank to the floor beside the bunk, temporarily sapped of energy. She sat quietly for several minutes, and by the time she was ready to stand and go back to her station at the comm, Vette was sleeping soundly, the bruises on her arms already a little faded.

* * *

"Servant Eleven to Servant One."

"We read you, Eleven."

"I have established visual surveillance on the coordinates you uploaded. I confirm that they are indeed in Republic-occupied territory."

"Excellent. We are uploading what we believe are floorplans for the tower in question. Please survey and determine whether they are a reasonable match per your visual assessment. If so, launch stealth probe droids. Though you have the advantage of the cover of night, take no chances"

"Understood. I will report back shortly. Eleven out."

* * *

Jaesa paced in the eerie stillness that enveloped the Fury. She reached out with the Force, sensing the others mostly peacefully sleeping. She could feel Pierce's aura blending with Tori's and knew that they slept together - literally, if not figuratively. She felt Vette's deep slumber and knew that all of her body's resources were devoted to healing. She even sensed Broonmark actually at rest, a rare occurrence. And yet Jaesa herself could not rest, and she did not truly understand why. She felt an uneasiness that she knew wasn't directly tied to her own emotions, and yet she couldn't pinpoint a source. Sighing, she forwarded incoming comm traffic to her personal unit once again and began flipping through holovids on the ship's main terminal, the sounds of Too-Vee cleaning and repairing Tori and Vette's combat gear becoming white noise in the background. Landing on an old slapstick comedy, she settled onto the sofa, comm in hand, and prepared to wait out the night.

* * *

Malavai was snoring heavily, his head tilted over the headrest of his chair at an angle that made Melia wince. She'd begun alternating her drinks with water some hours ago, but was still far more inebriated than she remembered being in years; Malavai had simply continued to mainline ale at an alarming pace, which was most unlike him. She knew that he'd made considerable progress in recent days, but she also knew that this little errand they had just run - and its consequences - had cost him dearly, despite his initial bravado. She debated trying to wake him and get him into bed, but instead decided to let him be, leaving a tall glass of water and a prepped painkiller stim by his elbow on the table. Carrying the same for herself, she staggered off to bed, ready to leave the day behind her.

* * *

As dawn began to rise over Corellia, the occupants of the Fury mostly remained at rest - Jaesa was asleep on the lounge sofa, still clutching her comm in one hand, her queue of holovids still blaring away. Vette was out cold in the medbay thanks to the muscle relaxers and Jaesa's work, and Tori slept soundly in Pierce's arms; his beefy hand had slid up under her camisole to wrap around her ribcage, and their legs had intertwined at some point in the night. She stirred in her sleep, her movement just enough to pull Pierce to the precipice of consciousness. He tightened his grip on her, nuzzling her neck with his scruffy face, his lips dragging along the top of her shoulder. Sighing, she still didn't wake, but yet responded to him, pressing her body into his. His breath hitched in his throat as he awoke more fully, stilling his movements abruptly once he realized she was still essentially asleep, but not releasing his hold on her. She arched against him, exposing her neck; he inhaled sharply, his fingertips digging into her ribcage as he struggled to maintain control. The pressure of his fingers woke her; her eyes fluttered open and his gaze met hers.

Pierce rolled slightly so that he was looking down at Tori, her head nestled into the crook of his elbow. Swallowing hard, he moved the hand that was wrapped around her ribs to cup her face, sweeping his thumb across her cheek. Still sleepy, she turned into his touch, letting her lips press into his palm carelessly, and the tenuous grasp on self-control Pierce had snapped. He dipped his head to kiss her deeply, his teeth grazing her lower lip. She gasped and pressed into him briefly, then pushed back to look at him.

"Pierce, I don't know… I mean, I can't…" she whispered hoarsely, for once at a loss for words.

"I know," he murmured, sweeping the tip of his nose up the side of her neck. "But let me anyway," he breathed in her ear.

Her resolve crumbling, Tori snaked her arms around his neck, giving herself over to sensation as he shifted to cover her body with his, reveling in the feel of his bulk surrounding her.

Jaesa snapped awake, feeling the spike of lust course through the ship.

"Gods damn it," she grumbled, rolling over to face the back of the sofa and pulling a throw pillow over her head.

* * *

"Servant Eleven to Servant One. Surveillance complete. Uploading report now."

"Receiving transmission. Your mission appears to be a success, Eleven. Conferring with Servant Two now. Hold the line."

Servant Two glanced over the holoterminal's display and gave a satisfied nod.

"Yes. All is as it seems. The betrayer seeks redemption. His role is not complete."

Servant One gave the display a cursory glance, then nodded at Two. Servant Two took the comm.

"Eleven, this is Two. Your mission is a success. You may contact the Wrath then return to base. Her destiny awaits."

"Very well. Eleven out."

* * *

A shrill beeping pulled Tori from sleep. Fumbling for her holocomm unit in the pile of her clothing on the floor, she pulled the sheet up to cover her bare chest and shot Pierce an apologetic look as he struggled to a sitting position next to her. Turning so that only the wall was visible behind her, she pushed the button to accept the call. Servant Eleven's waifish, hooded figure shimmered into view.

"Wrath. We have located Darth Vowrawn's secret headquarters. Uploading coordinates. He is operating in hostile territory: A massive tower in the heart of Incorporation Island. All Republic controlled. Amazing."

"The man is daring; I'll give him that," Torilya yawned, still fighting sleep.

"Yes. He orchestrates the war against the Republic right under their very noses. His operations must be disguised as Republic."

"Obviously." Torilya barely suppressed an eyeroll.

"However, I must caution you. If I have found him, Darth Baras's assassin may have as well…. Hold. …Yes. I will convey it. Eleven out.

"Servant Two has spoken to me. He says to be ready for suspicion."

"You mean I can't just wander into Republic territory and then expect people to take my word that I'm there to make friends?" Tori drawled sarcastically.

"You misunderstand. Darth Vowrawn will be hard to convince. You should prepare for battle once you infiltrate his headquarters. My mission is complete. I am recalled. The Hand hopes you find Darth Vowrawn before the assassin strikes."

Servant Eleven cut the transmission. Tori sighed heavily.

"These Hand people are never as useful as they seem to think they are," she remarked with derision.

Pierce chuckled, laying an open-mouthed kiss on her bare shoulder.

"Guess you better get dressed if you're going to go make nice with a suspicious Darth," he murmured.

"Right," she grumbled, hauling herself out of bed and pulling her sleep clothes back on. Once she was dressed, she stepped back over to where he sat propped up in bed, taking his hand.

"Pierce, I…" she trailed off as he reached up to shush her.

"Don't need to talk now. Let me get dressed and I'll help you get prepped."

She shot him a grateful look, then bent to kiss him quickly before ducking out of his quarters in search of her armor.

Ten minutes later, Tori was fully dressed in combat gear and ready to go. She crept into the medbay and her heart sank a little at seeing how pale Vette looked, still sound asleep in the bunk there. Jaesa stepped up alongside her, handing her a cup of steaming caff.

"She should be feeling better once she wakes, Master. Too-Vee gave her muscle relaxers and painkillers, and I tried to use the Force to help speed the healing process - which should have deepened her sleep," Jaesa murmured.

Tori turned to look at her apprentice. "Jaesa… I have not been as available to you of late, and I want you to know that once Baras is dealt with, I-"

Jaesa cut her off. "Master, you don't need to concern yourself with me at the moment. I… I do need guidance, but I swear to you that I will do nothing to jeopardize your current mission, no matter what happens."

Tori turned to her apprentice, gently grasping her by the hand.

"I trust you to be Pierce's backup, and he will have need of you, of your special abilities. Of that I'm certain."

Jaesa nodded. "I will be ready."

Tori squeezed Jaesa's hand, then stepped into the medbay to wake Vette. Rather than using the Force to lift her, Tori sat on the edge of the bunk and gently touched Vette's shoulder. Vette shot upright, but seemed to gain her wits more quickly than normal.

"Ugh. What's happening?"

"The Hand called. They have a bead on Vowrawn's headquarters. Think you can be ready in twenty minutes? We're still ostensibly racing an assassin."

"Yeah, yeah… just give me a sec and I'm good." Vette rubbed her eyes and stretched, still obviously tired, but hauled herself to her feet.

"I'll grab you some caff," Tori said, ducking out of the room.

Jaesa regarded Vette coolly. "How are you feeling?"

Vette sighed. "Tired. But I'll deal. It'll be better once I'm up and moving."

Jaesa nodded. Vette turned to her awkwardly.

"Hey, thanks for the, uh, Force boost last night. I don't feel quite as much like I've been run over by a herd of banthas."

"You're welcome."

Vette ducked her head in an awkward gesture of thanks, then slid out of the room, yelling for Too-Vee to bring her leathers. Rolling her eyes, Jaesa made her way to her quarters, hoping to catch some sleep now that everyone else was up.

Twenty minutes later, Vette, Tori, and Pierce stood at the ship's airlock. Tori and Vette were fully decked in combat gear and carrying extra ammo, rations, and medpacks. Pierce grabbed Vette in a quick headlock first, chucking her on the chin as he pulled back.

"Watch her back, shrimp."

Vette gave him a good-natured shove. "Yeah, yeah."

Tori looked up at Pierce. "Comm you when we've gotten through to the Darth," she rasped, suddenly inexplicably uneasy.

Pierce swept her into a fast hug, squeezing her tightly for a moment. "You've got this," he murmured in her ear.

She nodded against his shoulder. He released her.

"Go get 'em," he grinned at her rakishly. Tori smiled back despite herself, then looped her arm through Vette's.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Let's do this!" Vette chirped.


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: Again, you will see some in-game dialogue and events making their way in. Recognizable stuff isn't mine; some liberty has been taken. Feedback is always welcome, and thank you for reading!_

* * *

Little was said as Torilya and Vette made their way to the fringes of the Republic-occupied territory where the Hand had ostensibly located Darth Vowrawn's headquarters. Upon arrival, Vette's stomach did a slow roll at the number of Republic forces she could see patrolling about.

"Good thing I brought extra power packs," she sighed.

Tori looked at her sharply.

"Are you ready?" she asked, pointedly but not unkindly.

"On your lead," Vette replied, drawing her blasters.

Pausing only a second to collect her energy, Torilya was off, sending her saber arcing in one direction to strike one guard even as she leapt into a group of others standing several meters away. She landed with a mighty stomp, Force energy crackling on the ground around her and momentarily stunning the Republic troopers as her saber neatly returned to her grasp. As Tori whirled and slashed, Vette brought the lone trooper down with a couple of quick, clean shots, then turned her attention to the group Tori was seemingly dancing with. Seconds later, it was over, and they were back in the shadows, making their way to the next group.

After what seemed like hours, they finally made their way into the tower, only to be met by a man in what Vette thought she recognized as Republic Captain's insignia who looked less than thrilled to see them.

"Ah - Sith, are you lost?" he boomed overdramatically. "You're in a Republic-aligned corporate headquarters!"

Vette snorted as Tori heaved a sigh.

"Your accent is poking through, _fool_," the Sith hissed impatiently.

"I, uh, don't know what you're talking about," the captain hedged, then raised his voice exaggeratedly once again. "The consortium of corporations has cameras in every corporate lobby, so we are being observed by the Empire's enemies as we speak. A Sith comes in here, he's gonna meet resistance, so, uh... we're gonna have to kill you."

"Stop. Pretending. You are getting on my nerves," Tori ground out, her eyes narrowed.

The captain hesitated a moment, seemingly gathering his nerve.

"Really sorry - just can't do that," he choked out.

"You idiot," Vette moaned, already reaching for her blasters in anticipation.

"Sound the alarm!" the captain shouted, bringing a handful of troops running in from other rooms.

Tori shook her head as she made a shoving motion with her hand, sending the captain sailing backwards to knock over his reinforcements. Vette held her blasters ready, waiting to see if they would continue to press the issue. When the captain hauled himself up and joined the other men in opening fire, Tori rushed them, lightsaber aloft, and it was Vette's turn to shake her head as she lined up her first shot.

"Definitely an idiot," she grumbled, her blasters whining through their charging cycle.

Once the men were down, Tori eyed the force field blocking them from venturing further into the building, but Vette was already patting down the captain's corpse.

"Gotcha!" she exclaimed, brandishing a small datapad. "Gotta be codes on this thing…" she muttered as her fingers flew over it.

Tori stalked over to the control panel, rolling her lightsaber hilt in her hand.

"I see you, Wrathy One, just hold up a sec… Got it!"

Vette rushed over and gently nudged Tori out of the way with her hip. Working quickly, she input the codes, and the force field released.

"See? Don't always have to just smash things that are in your way."

Tori ignored her, pushing ahead quickly.

"Left the sense of humor on the ship today. Noted," Vette muttered, trotting along behind her.

They'd only made it down a couple short hallways before Tori suddenly stopped short, nearly causing Vette to smack into her back. A short, wiry Zabrak stood between them and yet another force field, lightsaber drawn.

"So, Baras's most deadly apprentice has finally found us. My Master has been on to you from the beginning," he sneered.

A slow, sardonic smirk spread across Tori's face.

"Please, enlighten me," she said, a bit too politely.

"Vowrawn can smell Baras's ploys a thousand light years away. He knows the rift between you and your master is a ruse, painstakingly orchestrated to get you close enough to strike. So drop the act."

The Zabrak paced before them as he spoke, puffing up his chest as he toyed with his lightsaber. Vette bit her lower lip hard in an attempt to keep from guffawing at the absurdity of his display. She could feel Tori's annoyance building to a point she knew to be dangerous - almost enough to make her feel sorry for the poor little guy.

Tori sighed.

"You won't believe anything I say, will you?"

"Say that you're Baras's stooge, and I'll believe you."

_Oh, shit._ Vette couldn't stop herself from cringing at that. She surreptitiously shifted her hands to her hips, ready to draw her blasters, and cast a sideways glance at Tori: She had completely stilled at the Zabrak's words, her nostrils visibly flaring with each shallow breath. Her posture was no longer relaxed; every muscle was coiled in preparation to strike. The Zabrak, however, either didn't notice or was truly unaware of how outmatched he was as he continued to goad her.

"But either way, I have to kill you."

He crouched and sprang.

"Die, assassin!" he hissed as he took his first swipe at Torilya, who parried his attack effortlessly.

The Zabrak continued to hack away at Tori, who merely kept parrying and dodging, lobbing the occasional halfhearted strike - but did not go on the offensive.

_She's toying with him_, Vette realized as she darted aside, bracing herself to shoot. She took her time aligning what would be her first shot, charged up her blasters, and waited, not sure exactly what Tori's plan was. Quickly, though, it became obvious: The Zabrak, believing Tori was purely on the defensive because he had the upper hand, kept slashing and stabbing, but he was clearly beginning to tire. Before long, his movements slowed and became sloppy, and Tori saw her window. Lifting him in the air with the Force, she held her lightsaber to his chin for a split second.

"I am no one's stooge," she spat, then her blade ripped through him in one clean sweep. The Zabrak crumpled lifelessly to the floor; Tori stepped over him delicately and turned to give Vette an expectant look. She quickly holstered her blasters and scrambled to the fallen Sith, trying not to pay attention to his mangled form as she searched for the codes that would get them through the next force field. Finding them quickly, she hurried to override the force field. They found themselves in a large, empty room. Tori stopped, pulling out her datapad and examining the floorplan the Hand had sent along with the tower's coordinates.

"Should be a lift on the opposite wall…" she murmured just as Vette spotted it.

They hurried to the lift, disembarking at the penthouse suite. Once again, they were met by a welcoming party - this time a hulking human Sith, flanked by two others. Tori wasted no time.

"Where is Darth Vowrawn?" Her voice echoed in the large space.

"You'll never find out, scum. You defeated Lord Haresh, but you can't overcome the three of us at once," the large Sith snarled, unaware that as he spoke, a distinguished-looking Pureblood was calmly making his way into the room behind him.

"Stop," the Pureblood commanded. "Lord Qet, stand down."

Lord Qet drew his saber.

"My lord, retreat into the shadows! We will stop this assassin," he cried, clearly thinking himself quite the hero.

"Sensing a pattern here," Vette muttered out of the side of her mouth to Tori. "Overcompensating much?"

The barest hint of a smile flickered across Tori's face.

"There could be ten of you, and you would fail. Leave us," the Pureblood said, clearly exasperated.

Tori's smile was full-blown this time.

"Oh, I don't care if they're here," she said breezily.

The Pureblood turned his full attention to Torilya.

"Spare them. They pose no threat to you or your master. I applaud you. Convey my congratulations to your master for his superior gameplay. The kill is yours. I ask only that I not suffer the indignity of decaptitation."

Tori paused a moment before speaking very slowly, almost as if she were speaking to a small child.

"I've been sent by the Emperor's Hands to ensure your safety, Vowrawn. Baras is _not_ my master. My mission is to bring him down."

The Darth and Tori stared one another down for several moments. Vette had just begun shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other when Vowrawn finally broke the silence.

"Nothing more can be gained from maintaining the deception," he mused quietly, then looked at Tori for another moment before a chuckle escaped his throat.

"Ah! If this is true, then the game is renewed!"

Just as Vette thought he might actually clap his hands with glee, a thermal grenade rolled into the room. Both Tori and Qet sprang into action, Qet shielding the Darth and Tori charging toward the source - a bounty hunter, Vette guessed by the armor.

"Darth Vowrawn," the hunter drawled, "Darth Baras says you gotta die."

Vette quickly discharged several blaster rounds into the hunter's back as Tori kept him busy, and the two women had him down before Lord Qet could gather his wits enough to charge into the fight. Once she was satisfied that the hunter was dead, Tori sauntered casually back over to where Darth Vowrawn stood, his expression bemused.

"That assassin had me dead to rights," he said incredulously. "You did not hesitate to defend me. My friend, I am convinced. What's more, I believe that with my help, you can defeat Darth Baras."

"I was hoping you would say that," Tori replied, the underlying sarcasm probably only obvious to Vette.

"Then I have a little confession to make. It is true that I am here to lead our important war effort - but there are other reasons I chose Corellia. Significant pillars of Baras's power base are here, and together, we can tear them down."

Tori thought for a moment before responding.

"I am, of course, interested in any chance to hurt Baras. But he will make more attempts on your life. You must relocate to my ship where my crew can protect you."

"Far be it from me to defy you," said Vowrawn with a smirk, raising his hands in mock surrender. "My protection here has taken a... recent hit."

Tori nodded, then turned to Vette to indicate that she should contact Pierce to let him know to expect company.

"But -" Vowrawn interrupted, "before I go, let me guide you. Most of the Dark Council knows Baras is not the Emperor's true Voice, but Baras's top two agents force them to support his bid. One agent safeguards secrets that he uses as leverage. The other leads Jedi Masters in campaigns against Sith who defy him. Now, if they were to disappear…"

"My former master is left high and dry, yes," Tori said impatiently, at which Vowrawn raised an eyebrow in amusement. "What do I need to do and where do I need to go?"

"Baras's first undercover agent is posing as Colonel Senks of the Corellian resistance. His stronghold is a labyrinth of secret passages. Unless you scramble the security codes before laying siege, he'll be able to escape through a dozen different escape tunnels."

"No worries there," said Tori with a nod in Vette's direction. "What about the other agent?"

"My operative is uncovering the identity and location of the Jedi infiltrator. I expect results soon. For now, Senks is your target."

Vowrawn paused a moment, looking a little wistful.

"In truth, Senks is a fantastic resource - it would be a shame to lose an agent of his caliber."

Tori frowned.

"Do you think it possible to truly compel him to denounce Baras - and be trusted to join you?"

"If anyone can, I'm sure it is you, my dear," Vowrawn said with a chuckle.

"We shall see," Tori said, not sounding convinced.

"Indeed," agreed Vowrawn. "My apprentices and I will report to your ship now. The minute I can point you to the second of Baras's agents, I will."

"You will not be reporting alone, my lord. Vette and I will escort you. Your safety is still in my hands, and the information I need is still in yours."

"Fair enough, young one. Just one moment while I secure us a passage out of here."

Vowrawn busied himself briefly at a holoterminal, then gestured to Tori to lead on.

"Lord Qet, if you would bring up the rear," Tori said icily, leading the group toward the lift and elbowing Vette sharply in the ribs on hearing the girl titter.

Qet slid in behind Vowrawn, grumbling under his breath. Vowrawn let his steps slow just enough to walk alongside his apprentice for a moment.

"Lots of fire in that one, eh? I quite like her," he murmured in Qet's ear, then quickened his pace before his apprentice could see the smirk on his face, but not before he heard the slew of profanity Qet let fly.

"All right, my lord?"

Tori looked over her shoulder.

"Oh yes, my dear. Just fine," Vowrawn replied cheerily. "Just fine, indeed."

* * *

Pierce and Jaesa were waiting at the airlock when Tori and her little party returned to the ship. Too-Vee fluttered about frantically, entreating Darth Vowrawn to call on him "absolutely any time, my lord; I am at your service for whatever you may need whenever you may need it! I am -"

"_Yes_, Too-Vee, thank you," Torilya broke in loudly. "Please see to making our guests comfortable."

Too-Vee shot off to convert the cargo hold into temporary quarters for the apprentices.

"Now, my lord," Tori said to Darth Vowrawn, "you will bunk in my quarters, and-"

"I _am _a lucky man," Vowrawn said with a smirk, rendering Tori momentarily speechless and eliciting a low growl from Pierce.

Tori cleared her throat.

"Right; Broonmark?" she called out, and the Talz slunk forward from where he'd been lurking in the corner. "You are to be personally responsible for Darth Vowrawn's safety while I am planetside. You are not to let _anyone_ close enough to this man to harm him unless I tell you otherwise. Understood?"

Broonmark warbled in agreement, stepping over to the Darth and taking a post just off the back of his shoulder. Vowrawn sighed.

"I appreciate your concern, but I do not believe I need-"

"Please, my lord. I need to be assured of your safety at all times, and no one will guarantee that better than Broonmark."

Tori thought for a moment, then amended her earlier command to the Talz.

"If the Darth is secure in his quarters, Broonmark, you need not be in there with him. I do want you monitoring the door, however."

Broonmark chuffed again.

"Now, please do make yourself comfortable. You'll find my crew is highly capable - and trustworthy - if there is anything you should need. Lieutenant Pierce is my second-in-command and one of the finest Imperial officers I've ever knows; Jaesa, my apprentice, is extremely gifted in the Force; Vette, as you've seen, is a damn fine shot and an expert slicer; and as I've mentioned, Broonmark is the absolute best in-" she fumbled for a moment "- security."

Darth Vowrawn nodded at each crew member as Tori made the introductions. Just as she finished, Too-Vee rattled back through, evidently taking the apprentices on a tour of the ship.

"You've met Too-Vee," Tori said dryly, "but I did not mention that he also currently oversees the crew's medical needs."

"Oh," Darth Vowrawn said with mild surprise, "you do not have a medic aboard?"

Tori squared her shoulders, steadfastly avoiding meeting any of her crew's eyes.

"Our medic is… away on a mission at the moment," she said stiffly.

"Ah. Well, I'm sure your droid is perfectly adequate for day-to-day needs. Now, if I may be so bold - perhaps a drink?"

"Of course. Jaesa, would you mind?" Tori gave her apprentice a meaningful look.

Jaesa stepped forward.

"If you'll follow me, my lord," she said demurely, casually reaching out to touch Vowrawn's elbow to lead him to the lounge.

"Think I'll take this opportunity to clean up, maybe catch a quick nap." said Vette. "Yell if you need me."

Tori nodded at her, then turned to face Pierce.

"Progress, then?" he asked quietly.

"I believe so. Still yet more hoops to jump through, apparently," she said, her tone acidic. "Jaesa should be able to tell me what she can sense soon. I have no reason to believe he isn't who or what he claims. His motives, though…" Tori shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

"What's next?"

"I'll be headed back to the surface soon to track down the last two of Baras's operatives, one of whom we have located - or so I'm told - and the other Vowrawn's operatives are still tracking. He may request access to the ship's computers; let him do what he needs… but see if you can quietly track it."

"Understood."

Pierce hesitated, then pulled Tori toward his quarters.

"Got a minute? Just a quick word."

"Of course."

They stepped into his quarters; Pierce quietly closing the door behind them. He stood before her, clearly on edge.

"Just spit it out, Pierce."

"Look, I - I wanted to apologize for last night, or this morning, or whatever. Got caught up in a moment - hard to wake up next to you and not," he grinned at her ruefully. "Anyway, just wanted you to know. Not going to push anything on you. Hell, not even sure what there is to push, aside from the obvious. But… I do care, y'know," he finished gruffly.

"I know. And so do I; you know that. You've nothing to apologize for, anyway. I certainly wasn't unwilling. But it is likely wise if we… avoid that kind of situation for at least the near future." Tori laid a hand on Pierce's arm. "But thank you, Pierce, for your consideration, and - well, everything."

"'S nothing," he mumbled, but pulled her in to drop a kiss on her head. "We good, then?"

"Of course, Pierce."

Tori stood quietly for a moment, obviously deep in thought.

"Something on your mind?"

She looked up at Pierce, her eyes troubled.

"I… I think I've got to bring the Captain back," she mumbled.

Pierce inhaled sharply.

"With Vowrawn on the ship, and Baras no doubt learning of all his assassin's failures, we are at increased risk of attack, and I cannot assume Too-Vee will be able to handle any serious injuries, especially if Force use is involved. I don't know of any other medics with his skill. And I don't have time to go searching. If I have Broonmark covering the Darth, and you and Jaesa monitor all ship's communications…"

"We can handle it, don't worry," Pierce said grimly. "All the bastard needs to do is give me one reason."

"I know I can trust you," Tori replied quietly. "I'm not asking you to like this, or to be anything beyond civil and cooperative. I just… I feel it has to be done."

"Then it will."

Tori exhaled shakily, then looked up at Pierce, a forced grin on her face.

"We still good?"

"Of course, Tori."

"I'll be on the bridge - that will do for my quarters while our guests are aboard."

She slid the hand that had been resting on his arm down to squeeze his hand, then stepped out. Pierce sank onto his bunk, dropping his head into his hands.

"Bloody hell," he muttered at the floor.


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: Urgh. Third attempt at posting; formatting is not playing nicely tonight. Let me know if something looks wrong. _

* * *

After taking advantage of Darth Vowrawn's impromptu cocktail hour with Jaesa to gather some of her clothing and belongings and leaving her armor with Too-Vee for cleaning and repair, Torilya sealed herself in on the Fury's bridge. Her decision to recall Quinn made, she still couldn't quite bring herself to place the call just yet, though she knew time was not a luxury she had. There was the question of his passenger, as well - quarters on the Fury were already tight with the addition of the Darth and his apprentices. Furthermore, she wasn't sure having Quinn's ship rendezvous with the Fury directly was wise, either. While she realized she would not be able to keep Baras in the dark for long as to Vowrawn's whereabouts, she also did not want to risk doing anything to potentially make the connection easy for him. Quinn had said he did not believe he was being tracked, and at one time, she would have trusted his instincts without question.

_One thing at a time,_ she reminded herself, closing her eyes and sliding into the captain's seat. She sat quietly for several minutes, gathering what was left of her energy and carefully compartmentalizing the varying emotions threatening to overwhelm her control: That which she could use, she allowed to remain; that which was a distraction, she tucked away. Once she felt reasonably centered, she pulled herself fully upright in her chair and drew her comm from her pocket.

_Problem-solving. Doing what needs to be done._

She placed a call.

* * *

Malavai surreptitiously massaged his temples while Melia took her time over her next move in the game of holochess she'd wheedled him into playing. Despite having been up and around for several hours, the aftereffects of his binge the previous evening were still very much present.

"I still can't believe you have this old thing," he murmured, watching the images of the pieces flicker unsteadily.

She shrugged, finally making her move.

"Never know when you might want a game to pass the time."

He chuckled mirthlessly, but before he could respond, the sound of his personal comm chirping brought him out of his seat in surprise. Melia leaned back in hers, watching him in amusement as he frantically tried to smash his still-chaotic hair into place with one hand while pulling the comm out of his pocket to answer. Torilya's image stuttered into focus.

"Captain. Wrath here. I am calling to notify you that you are being recalled to the Fury due to a change of circumstances in my mission. Instructions for rendezvous forthcoming. Do not alter your current path as yet."

It took every bit of energy Malavai had to keep his knees from giving, but he stood straight.

"Understood. I will begin making preparations at once while I await further instruction."

He hesitated, unsure of how to ask his next question. She noticed at once.

"Speak, Quinn," Torilya barked.

"Yes, my lord." Realizing his mistake too late, he decided to simply press on. "Should I begin looking into other arrangements for my passenger?"

Melia snorted from her seat.

"Hold off on that, Captain. I do not believe that will be necessary at this juncture."

"Very good, sir."

"Indeed. I will be in touch again soon with instructions. Wrath out."

Malavai sank back down into his seat as he disconnected.

"Sounds like I get to meet your girlfriend," Melia said. "That, or she's planning on killing me to get me out of the way."

Malavai frowned at her.

"Your timing with jokes is still terrible. And I hardly think calling her my 'girlfriend' at this point in time is appropriate. Please promise me you will -"

"_Yes,_ Malavai, I will behave; stop worrying. And for goodness's sake, get it together. You're as white as can be. Isn't this what you've been wanting? To get back to her side?"

"Yes, but…"

"But nothing. Go clean yourself up and start packing. I'll bring you something to eat and some caff."

Much to her surprise, Malavai simply turned and headed for the refresher without a word.

* * *

_One down. Next one is easier. _

As soon as Tori disconnected with Quinn, she punched in another holofrequency.

"Hello, Dad," she said quietly once the image rendered.

Andronikos Revel couldn't quite hide his surprise at his daughter's appearance. "Tori, hon. What's up?"

"Oh, you know. Posturing and murder and mayhem, all that Sithy stuff," she said dryly.

Nikos smirked at her. "Atta girl. I'm guessing it's too much to hope that your first call to me in months is purely because you miss your old man and wanted a chat?"

"Insightful as ever."

"Lay it on me."

"Don't suppose you'd be up for a little flying? I need someone I can trust…"

Sparing many of the finer details for the moment, particularly about Quinn, Torilya explained her current situation. As she spoke about her mission on Corellia and the guests currently on her ship, her father's face became drawn, and she heard him begin to swear under his breath. She held up her hands in a placating gesture.

"It's under control, Dad. Sith, remember?" She pointed to herself.

Nikos's eyeroll was clear despite the grainy image.

"I'm sure it is, Tor. So what exactly do you need me to do? Schedule's wide open these days, you know," he said, his voice straining on the last few words.

"Well, what I need most is a shuttle run. As I mentioned, my medic is undercover, in a manner of speaking, and I need to recall him, but I don't want to risk anyone trailing him back to me, at least right away. He has a passenger as well, his sister. They have a small ship that they've been using, but it should fit in one of your hangars without issue. I should warn you, though, that you may want to steer clear until I have this situation fully under control - just in case."

"Ah, hell, let 'em blow the place up," Nikos scoffed. "Been there too long as it is. Just say the word and I'll be an extra gun. Or two."

"I may need you to be available for escape for my crew and my, uh, guests, just in case. Can't risk you on the ground with me."

"What, don't trust me to shoot straight in my old age?"

Tori grinned at her father fondly.

"Hardly. No one I trust more. That's why I need you to do this for me."

"All right, all right. I'll bring my astromech and have it pilot the other ship back. Just shoot me rendezvous coordinates and I'll get there as soon as I can."

"Thanks, Dad."

"Get some rest, Tori. You look like hell."

"Nice talking to you, too."

After disconnecting, Tori pulled out her datapad and typed out a quick message, then rose and exited the bridge, making her way to Vette's quarters. She knocked softly on the door.

"Wha-huh?" Vette slurred. "C'min."

Tori stuck her head in the door.

"Sorry, Vette. Can I interrupt you for a moment? It's important."

Vette lay sprawled on her back on her bunk, arms, legs, and _lekku_ akimbo.

"Yuh-huh."

Tori slid through the door, closing it behind her, then sat gingerly on the corner of Vette's bunk, her hands resting lightly on her lap.

"I have decided to recall Quinn."

Vette shot to a sitting position, her eyes wide.

"Whoa. Awake now. So… what's this about Captain Tightpants?"

"We need a real medic, and fast. He's the best I know. And…" Tori searched for words. "Well, things can't get much more dangerous than they are now. He'd be hard pressed to try anything with all these Force users on board, all of whom-" she faltered briefly "- are of sharp instinct, unclouded by foolishness."

Vette looked at her incredulously.

"You're calling _Jaesa's_ instincts unclouded and unfoolish? Are you feeling okay?"

"She does not suffer the same sort of blindness I clearly did where Quinn is concerned," Tori bit out, her nails digging into her thighs.

"Um, not to rain on your parade of self-loathing there, but Jaesa didn't exactly pick up on whatever was going on with him, either, and she's the one with the alleged mind-reading superpower or whatever it is. Your guess is probably better than mine as to why - I just assumed being a first-class psycho bitch took up all of her energy." Vette's tone was light, but her expression was hard.

"That psycho bitch helped you without being asked," Tori said mildly.

Vette let out an indignant huff.

"Yeah, I know. But still - you can't deny she's been all sorts of impossible up to that point. And I'm not exactly holding my breath that this calm-cool-and-collected act won't blow up on us all."

"Well, yes. My point, though, is that while the stakes are even higher, we also have more resources. Presumably, anyway."

"Look, I'm not questioning your decision. Not really. But I have to ask, as your friend - are you okay with this?"

"No," Tori answered quietly. "But I feel I have to do it, both logically and, in some way, instinctually. All tactical reasons aside, I feel… I feel my victory will not truly be complete if I leave Quinn banished during Baras's takedown."

Vette blinked. "Sorry, you lost me there."

Tori stood and began to pace across Vette's narrow room as she talked, her eyes flashing an odd amber in the dimmed light.

"I do not pretend to understand Quinn's purpose in everything. Nor am I ready to address it on a personal level. But there's a part of me that feels if I keep him away when I still nee-" Tori cleared her throat "- when I still have use for his skills, then even if, _when_, I topple Baras, he still wins on some level. He still managed to take that much more from me. And I can't abide giving Baras one more centimeter than I must."

Vette nodded slowly.

"I think I get it, kinda." Vette watched Tori pace for a moment. "Have you told Pierce yet?" she asked gently.

"Yes. He is, of course, not pleased, but I think he'll handle it."

"Are you… I mean, I don't mean to pry, but…"

Tori stopped pacing and looked at her friend, grinning ruefully a little at Vette's obvious discomfort.

"He means a great deal to me. He's been invaluable both to me personally and as a member of this crew, especially recently. And, yes, the lines are a bit… blurred of late, at least on the surface, and I've no idea how all that will go, but on the other hand, I can't really allow myself to get caught up in that right now. And I think he understands that. I trust him, Vette. I hope you do, too."

"Meh, he's all right," Vette cracked a smile. "I do, Tori. I just worry, you know?"

Tori walked over to Vette and smacked a sisterly kiss on her head.

"I know. But I think I have to take a leap of faith here. If it all blows up spectacularly, you have my permission to mock me in any way you see fit for the rest of your days. You know, assuming we haven't all died horrible deaths."

Vette smacked Tori with one of the pillows from her bunk.

"Thanks, O Wrathful One, that makes me feel _soooo_ much better."

Tori's retort was cut off by the sound of her datapad chiming.

"Sorry, Vette."

"Duty calls, I get it. Shoo; I was gonna nap anyway."

Tori started to duck out, but Vette spoke up one more time.

"Hey, I still have that collar I was wearing when you met me on Korriban. Hung onto it as a memento of sorts. You're welcome to borrow it anytime anyone else causes a problem."

Tori whipped around to see Vette raising an eyebrow mischievously at her. Stifling a laugh despite herself, she shook her head and left the room. Once out in the corridor, she quickly read the message that had come in, then typed another one quickly and sent it before jogging back down the corridor to the bridge. She sealed herself in again, then pulled out her holocomm to make another call. Quinn answered almost immediately this time.

"We have come to a full stop as instructed, Wrath. We will be prepared to abandon ship as soon as our contact arrives."

"Very good, Captain. You are awaiting the arrival of Andronikos Revel. He will transport you and your passenger to the Fury and make arrangements for your ship. While you are on his ship, he acts with my authority, and you will treat him as such. Any display of anything but the utmost respect for Revel and his orders and you _will _regret it. Am I clear?"

Knowing exactly what was at stake, Quinn kept his surprise at hearing Revel's name at bay, drew himself to his full height, and tried to make his expression as open as possible.

"Perfectly. You have my word that nothing-"

Torilya cut him off.

"Your words are useless to me, Quinn," she said coldly. "Only actions will speak the truth now."

Swallowing hard, Quinn dipped his chin sharply in acknowledgement.

"You will be briefed once you are aboard the Fury. Wrath out."

Tori flung her comm aside as soon as the call disconnected, then sank to the floor, trying to force her breathing back to a normal rate despite the blood rushing to her head, pounding like thunder in her ears.

_No turning back now._

* * *

Malavai slowly lowered his comm and turned to look at Melia in astonishment.

"You know this Revel character?" she asked.

"Yes. Well, I know _of_ him. He is a pirate by trade, the widower of a once very powerful Darth, and, perhaps most terrifying, Torilya's father."

Melia gaped at him.

"Does he…?"

"I've no idea."

"Hoo, boy," she breathed.

"_Now_ you choose to understate matters."

With that, Malavai spun on his heel and made for the small piles of their belongings to inventory them yet again, scrubbing his hands through his hair frantically with each step.

* * *

_A/N: Bonus points to anyone catching the "Captain Tightpants" reference. I couldn't help myself. :)_


	14. Chapter 14

All of the occupants of the Fury, save for Vowrawn's two lesser apprentices, were seated in the lounge awaiting Tori's arrival per her intercom message of a few minutes prior. Vowrawn reclined lazily, still sipping from a glass that Jaesa had refilled several times over the course of the evening, his red eyes reflecting mild amusement as he took in the people around him. Taking Tori's orders extremely seriously - and literally - Broonmark loomed over Vowrawn's seat, not even a full arms-length away. Jaesa sat beside the Darth, her face a mask of calm, but her own eyes shifting back and forth rapidly, almost nervously. Her gaze flitted to Lord Qet every so often, who slumped in a chair with his arms crossed, looking both bored and petulant. Vette sat propped up at a table, her head leaning heavily into one hand as she watched Jaesa. _Either she knows something's up, or she's gonna snap again at any minute,_ she mused. Pierce sat across the table from Vette, in full uniform and fully armed, the durasteel of his boot clanking a bit as he bounced a foot impatiently.

Everyone in the room seemed to sit a little straighter as Tori swept in, apparently in the process of sending a message on her datapad. She was dressed in a set of her more official-looking robes - what Vette had dubbed her "Sithy garb" - with her lightsaber at her hip, though she left the hood back and her long, black hair fell loosely around her shoulders. There was an uneasy hush in the room while she finished her work and pocketed her datapad, then looked up to survey the group before she spoke.

"Darth Vowrawn, where are your other two apprentices?"

Vowrawn waved a hand dismissively. "Bah, those two are useless. I'll be sending them back to Korriban as soon as it's possible."

Tori's eyes narrowed a bit, the displeasure at her orders being subject to interpretation clear on her face.

"I trust, then, that you will see to it that they do not interfere with this crew's mission and that they are prepared to take instruction without question?"

"Of course, my dear. If they cause a problem, I'll escort them to the nearest airlock myself."

Tori nodded once, her expression still hard. She drew herself taller and spoke to the group at large.

"I have called you here for a briefing. I will soon be returning to the surface of Corellia to resume the mission, details of which you will learn as needed. Some of you will know more than others. Deal with it. I've no time to tend to hurt feelings. You will trust that you know what you need to know in order to contribute and act accordingly, or you will be silenced, through whatever means become necessary. Clear?"

Torilya paused to make eye contact with each person in the room in turn, lingering when she met Qet's stare. When no one spoke, she pressed on.

"We will soon have two more aboard ship - the ship's medic, Captain Quinn, will be returning, along with a member of his family that has been under his protection in recent days. Captain Quinn will resume all medic's duties at once. His family member is here as our guest and will have our protection. She is to be treated with courtesy, as she is under threat by no fault of her own. Any questions about this development may be brought to me privately and are not to be discussed amongst yourselves. If we are to be successful in our mission, it is imperative that you trust in me and in one another. If you do not feel this is possible for you, see me right away and I will make arrangements for your immediate reassignment without question or retribution. Otherwise, I will assume we have an understanding and will not hesitate to deal with you at the first sign of a problem. Most of you know that I do not make idle threats. Those of you that don't will soon learn."

Again, Tori paused to look each person in the eye. Sensing no immediate threat for outbursts or backlash, she moved ahead.

"Quarters will be tight with so many aboard, so be prepared to have a little less personal space than you may be used to. Squabbling will not be tolerated. To that end, allow me to reiterate that, in my absence, Lieutenant Pierce has command of this ship. You are to respond to his orders just as you would to my own. He has my authorization to handle any aboard ship issues as he sees fit. You need not worry that he will abuse that privilege."

At that, Pierce sat up even straighter, looking Torilya directly in the eye. He gave her a sharp salute, masking his lightning-quick wink at her as he did so. She resisted the urge to smile, knowing that he was putting on a show for the benefit of the room despite understanding how deadly serious her words were.

"If no one has questions, that will be all for now. I expect to disembark early tomorrow morning. Vette will be accompanying me. Remember, your primary mission is to ensure Darth Vowrawn's safety. Dismissed."

The group slowly dispersed: Vette shuffled back off to her quarters; Lord Qet stalked back to the cargo hold without so much as a look in Tori's direction; Pierce shot her a quick glance and made for his quarters. Darth Vowrawn seemed content in his chair, so Broonmark did not so much as twitch out of his position, and Jaesa looked uncertain as to her next move. Seeing her apprentice's hesitation, Tori spoke up.

"Jaesa and Broonmark, would you excuse us a moment? I'd like to speak to Darth Vowrawn privately."

Jaesa quickly stood. "Come on, Broonmark. You can help me practice my forms."

Tori winced a little as the two departed, eliciting a questioning look from the Darth.

"My apprentice is a little volatile yet. Broonmark is perhaps not the best choice for her to practice with," she explained, taking a seat.

Vowrawn chuckled. "Ah, youth. She's delightful, as are you, my dear. Your authority in handling your crew just now was lovely to behold, if more subtle than what I might have expected from the Emperor's Wrath."

Tori inclined her head slightly in acknowledgement of the compliment.

"Do you have any concerns, my lord?" she asked.

"Oh, no. I'm sure it will all be fine. I do have a question, however. I was not merely joking when I said I wished to send two of my apprentices back to Korriban. I do not trust them running amok on Corellia without supervision, nor do I want them underfoot here. If I may ask, how will your medic be making the rendezvous with us?"

"I have enlisted the help of a… third party to transport him and his passenger."

"I see, I see. And is this third party someone for hire?"

Tori hesitated. "Well, not precisely, though he is experienced in such work."

"Ah!" the Darth crowed. "This, then, seems too good to be true! Surely I can tempt him into making a quick run to Korriban to deliver my apprentices. After all, if you trust him with your crew, surely I can trust him with two apprentices that are more trouble than they are worth."

"Y-yes, perhaps," Tori hedged. "I shall speak with him when they arrive."

"Good, good!" Vowrawn clapped his hands. "Now, my dear, tell me more about this medic of yours."

Tori stood abruptly. "He is a fine medic and a fine Imperial officer. I have no doubt in his ability to handle any medical needs you may have. If you will excuse me, my lord, I must make preparations for his arrival and for my return to the surface."

Vowrawn looked at Tori as if he wanted to press the issue, but instead simply bowed his head, rising as well to take one of her hands.

"Of course. I believe I shall retire myself, as your charming apprentice is occupied with her training and my glass is empty. Thank you once again for the pleasure of your company, young one, and for making me so welcome on your ship."

Vowrawn brought her knuckles to his lips in an airy kiss, then swept off to his - her - quarters. Tori stood in place for a moment, torn between laughing and shuddering in disgust. The Darth was unique, she'd give him that.

_I might even like him_, she thought. _Maybe_.

* * *

Andronikos sat stretched out in the captain's chair of his freighter, feet propped on the map console, enjoying the ride through hyperspace. It wasn't the Sky Princess, but he had to admit it was nice to be piloting a stouter vessel again. It'd been a steal, too; got it from some smuggler looking to downsize. Said she was ready to spend more time planetside now that she had a couple grandkids on the way, had "officially" decommissioned the ship - it'd been part of some Republic war operation, not that he particularly cared about the details - but couldn't bear to see it go to scrap. She'd called in a favor for him, gotten it under some random registration, no affiliation, despite his protests that he could have it taken care of. She insisted, though, and he decided he didn't want to argue with her. Pretty little thing, close to his age but showed little sign of it aside from a few streaks of silver in her hair, carried a slick-looking blaster - just the type he might have gone for once upon a time. Hell, might have done now, had it not been for that dreadlocked lug of a husband of hers shadowing her every step. She'd clearly known what she was doing with the ship, too; it was immaculately cared for and even had a few surprises installed - some unexpected weaponry and some other pretty sophisticated tech usually reserved for military vessels or the like.

Nikos was shaken from his thoughts by the chime of his datapad. He flicked on the screen to find a brief message:

_All set. Make it look good. - T_

He shook his head, chuckling. Clearly this captain of his daughter's had done something to put himself on her shit list, but he knew better than to push for details. Still, given that and the note he'd just received, it seemed that having a little fun with the kid would be highly appropriate.

Doing this little job for Tori was giving him a bigger lift than he wanted to admit, despite the worry he felt for her. He and his daughter enjoyed a pleasant, if mostly superficial relationship, but he knew her better than she was willing to admit or perhaps even realized. Not that he blamed her; her childhood had certainly not been easy, and stars knew he hadn't always handled himself well. But as they both got older and more time passed, the natural connection between them seemed to grow, and every instinct he had told him that she was neck deep in some serious shit, both with the Sith and in her personal life.

Sighing, he swung his feet to the floor and pushed out of his chair, heading toward the bar he kept well-stocked in the lounge. He had a couple hours before making the rendezvous point, might as well relax a bit. Once he had his drink in hand, he went about making some adjustments to the weapons systems. She'd said to make it look good, and far be it from him to disappoint his only daughter.

Malavai was just finishing wiping the ship's holoterminal and carefully stowing the data chips holding the backups when the proximity klaxon started to blare. Frowning, he quickly made his way to the bridge, where Melia was standing gaping at the ship that had suddenly come into view, clearly in an attack posture.

"Looks like his weapons are hot," she said, her voice slightly laced with panic. "This can't be Revel… is it?"

Malavai's frown deepened. "I'm not sure. I assumed he'd make contact via holo when he was within-"

The rest of his sentence was cut off by the little ship shaking wildly as one of the freighter's turrets let loose a volley of blaster fire, some of it grazing the top of the cargo ship's hull.

"Sit down and strap in," Malavai snapped at his sister, securing himself in the pilot's seat. "Taking evasive maneuvers."

"Do we even _have_ weapons? Or shields?" Melia's voice climbed higher as another volley seemed to skim just over the nose of their ship.

"No," Malavai replied tightly, expertly rolling the ship to avoid the next volley.

Melia squinted out the ship's windows at the freighter.

"Oh, bloody hell!" she squeaked.

"_What?_"

"It looks like he's charging something… some kind of cannon? Looks like he's aiming for our engines."

"Thank you for that _expert_ analysis," Malavai ground between clenched teeth, dodging yet more blaster fire.

The dance went on for a few more seconds before Malavai suddenly relaxed his hold slightly on the helm, letting his movements slow just a bit.

"What the hell are you doing?" Melia shrieked.

"_Hush_."

The little cargo ship continued to swerve and pitch, but less frantically, and the freighter seemed to slow the onslaught of blaster fire to match.

"That son of a bitch," Malavai muttered.

"Are you moving _closer_?"

"Yes. Prepare the escape pod to deploy. Three minutes."

"Are you going to tell me what the f-"

"Just _do it_," he roared. "And keep hold of something!"

Biting back any number of retorts, she unfastened so that she could reach the control panel for the escape pod, grasping the edge of the ship's helm tightly. Just as she finished entering the series of commands, the ship shuddered wildly and the lights went out.

"Brace," Malavai barked, just as the ship seemed to collide with something and shudder to a halt, loud scraping noises sounding from near the airlock.

Suddenly, it was eerily dark and quiet. Malavai swiftly unbuckled and pulled Melia from her chair, propelling them toward the airlock. He wrested the manual latch open and pried the door open. On the other side stood a wiry man with a shock of salt-and-pepper stubble covering his head and the lower half of his face. An tribal-looking tattoo surrounded one eye in a pattern that looked not entirely dissimilar to the markings Tori sported on her face. At his side, a beat-up astromech droid whirred and chirped.

"Not bad flying, kid. Figured I'd have to figure out how to get you aligned with the hatch myself." Andronikos's gravelly voice echoed in the airlock. "You gonna invite me in or what?"

Malavai bowed his head and stepped aside, carefully placing himself between Melia and Andronikos.

"Captain Revel, I presume?" he inquired archly.

"You better hope so. Em-tee, you know what to do," Nikos turned his attention to the astromech. "Go to it, buddy."

The droid let out a cheerful-sounding beep and rolled away toward the engine room. Just then, the sound of the escape pod deploying rattled through the ship. Nikos looked surprised for a brief moment, then gave Malavai a sideways grin.

"Nice touch. Guess you figured things out pretty quick. She said you were a smart one."

"Did she," Malavai struggled to keep his tone light and even. "I take it, then, we are indeed attempting to make this look to whatever audience we may or may not have as if you are pillaging rather than rendering aid? My lord merely instructed me to cut power to one engine and resume flying under half power. I assumed - well, I suppose it does not matter."

"Nah, it really doesn't," Nikos drawled. "Don't worry, I didn't hit you with anything serious. Modified my systems to make it look pretty but not bite too hard. Droid'll have your engines up and running in a few."

"That's all very nice, but I don't particularly care about the condition of this junk heap," Malavai grumbled. "Shall we proceed, then?"

Nikos chuckled. "Sure. Grab your gear. Won't be a long ride, but should be a hell of a lot more comfortable than this setup."

"Um, hi?" Melia elbowed her brother aside, the annoyance plain in her voice. "Nice to meet you, Captain Revel. I'm Melia."

"Aw, save the Captain stuff for this guy," Nikos jerked his head in Malavai's direction. "It's Andronikos, or Nikos or Revel if you wanna save a couple syllables. Hell, I'll answer to pretty much anything."

Melia grinned. "Fair enough."

The three of them made quick work of transferring their few bags of gear to Nikos's freighter, and within a few minutes, they were back into hyperspace. Nikos joined the siblings in the ship's lounge once he had everything squared away on the bridge.

"My droid'll get your ship back to one of my hangars. Shouldn't take us more than a few hours in hyperspace to get you to the spaceport on Corellia. Tori's got me clearance to dock a couple bays down from her. Not quite door-to-door service this time, but close," Nikos smirked at Malavai, who was carefully keeping his face as inscrutable as possible.

"Thank you, Andronikos. We very much appreciate your assistance."

"Not doing it for you, kid."

Malavai cleared his throat. "Indeed, sir," he replied, earning a glare from Andronikos.

"Knock it off with the 'sir' crap. You're here; might as well try to relax. Feel free to grab something from the bar or the galley - both of you." Nikos turned to Melia and gave her a surprisingly gentle smile. "Gonna be up and around putting my weapons systems back together for a bit myself or I'd join you."

"If it's all the same to you gentlemen, I think I'll just grab a bit of sleep. This couch here is the most comfy thing I've been in contact with in days," Melia sighed, settling down into the cushions and turning her back to the room.

"If you'll permit me, I'd be happy to be of any assistance I can," Malavai offered stiffly.

Nikos surveyed his face for a moment.

"All right, then. You've gotta loosen up a little, though - military formality gives me the creeps. Come on," he motioned Malavai toward the bar. After rummaging a bit, Nikos unearthed a bottle of Corellian whiskey. He poured two shots and slid one to Malavai as he lifted his glass.

"To my Torilya - your lord." Andronikos's gaze was steely as he looked Malavai in the eye.

"To my lord," Malavai murmured, meeting Nikos's stare steadily. The two men regarded each other for a long moment, then both drank deeply.

* * *

Tori was seated on the bridge, still fully dressed, despite the hour - nearly 3 a.m. by the ship's clock. She had spent the last several hours repeatedly filtering through the emotions still swirling within her, exploring them as far as she felt able to control them, cataloging her responses, trying to note the shifts in her energy. She knew she'd be walking a fine line of letting her emotions fuel her and letting them control her, and she could not afford any missteps. She kept returning to her anger - at Baras, at Quinn, at the seemingly endless hurdles between her and her goal. Perhaps most powerful, though, was her anger at herself. She was furious at herself for failing to extricate herself from Baras's games before she found herself seemingly on the losing side, for failing to realize that everything with Quinn was not as it seemed - even _after _she'd been warned, she'd been blind. Now she closed her eyes and imagined all these sources of her anger as white-hot pinpoints before her in the Force, visualized them coalescing into one great ball of energy that she could pull into herself and let take root.

Tori was jarred from her meditative state by her holocom chirping. She pulled it from her pocket, taking a steadying breath as she did.

"Dad. What's your status?"

"Just about to dock. Passengers made it aboard with no issues; we had a pretty smooth ride. Both sleeping at the moment, though your captain spent a good chunk of the evening helping me recalibrate the ship's weapons systems."

"Glad he made himself useful," Tori said shortly. "If you are not in a hurry to take off, I'd like to come speak to you aboard your ship. There has been a small development I'd like to discuss with you."

Nikos raised an eyebrow at her, and her face softened.

"And of course I'd like to see you, too," she admitted.

"That's better. I'd say give me twenty minutes or so and I'm set."

"Let's say an hour or so. I suspect my arrival will disrupt your passengers' sleep, and it is essentially the middle of the night. That at least gives them a bit more rest."

"All right, hon. You know where to find me."

"I'll see you shortly."

Tori disconnected, then took her time straightening her robes, making sure the armored plating was firmly in place, and securing her hair in its usual coil atop her head. She paced the bridge for several long minutes before deciding she'd risk sneaking to the galley for some caff, hopefully without disturbing any of her crew or her guests. She was startled, though not entirely surprised, to find Pierce already seated at the little table, still fully dressed and armed, with a steaming mug in front of him.

"Pierce?" she murmured.

"Set up a watch rotation with Jaesa and Broonmark. Not that Broonmark isn't constantly on watch. Figured it might be wise, though."

Tori simply nodded as she poured herself a mug.

"What brings you out here? Can't sleep?"

"Well, no, but somewhat deliberately this time. The ship carrying the captain and his sister is about to dock, just a couple of bays down. I'll be going over to speak to the pilot and brief the captain before I bring them over to the Fury."

"Alone?" Pierce's jaw visibly clenched.

"Yes, I believe it best. I promise you, I'm in no danger."

Pierce stared at her for a moment before heaving a sigh and slumping back into his seat.

"Not that I don't think you can take care of yourself, but I just…"

"I know. But it must be done."

"All right. But any sign of trouble, you comm and I'll be there."

Tori gave him a tight smile and a nod, and the two sat in silence for a long while, both lost in thought as they sipped their caff. Finally, Tori pulled out her datapad to check the time.

"Might as well get this over with," she said, downing the last dregs in her mug as she stood. Pierce stood too, following her to the airlock.

"Be careful," he said in a strained voice as she punched in the security code and stepped out.

"I'll be back shortly," she replied as she pulled her hood low over her forehead. She paused to look at him briefly, then spun on her heel and strode toward the lift.

As Tori made her way through the spaceport, she kept focusing on the same visualization she'd been meditating on while she waited on the bridge. She matched her breathing to her strides, listened to the sounds of her boots on the floor, inhaled the dusty air deliberately, engaging all of her senses. She imagined she could feel the ball of energy nesting within her belly.

_Focus._

All too soon, she had arrived at the airlock to her father's ship, where he was waiting for her. A grin spread across his face as she drew near, and he quickly stepped over to her to pull her into a hug.

"Hi, Dad," she whispered, but Nikos didn't speak.

After a few moments, he released her and took a step back to look at her, lingering on her face and the changes he saw there.

"Well, you certainly look like a full-blown scary Sith," he finally said.

Tori studied her father equally thoroughly before replying, taking in the eyes that still twinkled, despite the lines around them that hinted at some hard times.

"You look good. Nice ship you've come up with, too," she nodded toward the freighter.

Nikos took his daughter's arm. "She's nicer on the inside," he said, pulling her toward the door. He quickly input the security code and ushered her inside. She looked around appreciatively at the spacious interior, and was just about to ask for a full tour when they rounded a corner and she nearly collided with a somewhat disheveled-looking Malavai.

He recovered first.

"I beg your pardon, Wrath. I am glad to see you are well."

_Focus. _

The ball of energy flared white-hot.

"And you, Captain."


	15. Chapter 15

An uncomfortable silence fell on the freighter as Malavai and Tori regarded one another and Andronikos tried to pretend to be oblivious to the massive tension between his daughter and the Imperial. Finally, Quinn's military training seemed to kick in and he spoke, his voice only slightly strained.

"Apologies, Andronikos. I awoke and realized you were not aboard, so I was just heading to try to raise you on your holo to make sure all was well. I-"

"'_Andronikos_'?" Tori broke in, her voice soft and menacing. "I sincerely hope you were given leave to take such liberties, _Captain_, or there will be consequences."

"Torilya, ease up," Nikos said wearily. "Since when have I ever tolerated being called 'Captain' or 'sir' or any of that crap? Took me long enough to keep the kid from standing at attention all the damn time."

"Very well. Aboard your ship, that is your right." Tori cut her gaze to Quinn, who - to his credit - did not look away, but drew himself taller and met her eyes.

"Damn straight it is," Nikos muttered, at which Tori whipped her head back around to glare at her father. "Anyway, we're all here, so what next?"

"Well, as the captain is obviously awake, I suppose I can simply brief you both at once. Then while the captain and his sister prepare to disembark, I'd like to see the rest of your ship." Tori looked her father in the eye at that last part, and her face softened a bit.

Nikos nodded. "Sounds good. Come on up to the bridge so we don't wake Melia." He took Tori's elbow and gestured to Malavai to lead the way, letting him get a few paces ahead before he started to follow. As they walked, he leaned in to speak softly into Tori's ear.

"You okay?"

"Fine," Tori growled through clenched teeth.

On the short walk to the bridge, Tori looked all around her, admiring the well-kept, if aged ship - it was a perfect reflection of Andronikos himself. She spotted Melia curled up on one of the lounge's couches as they passed and was startled to see how strong the resemblance was between her and Quinn. Their faces, even in sleep, were strikingly similar in features and expression.

Once on the bridge, Nikos assumed his typical sprawl in the captain's seat, and Malavai stood at parade rest off to one side. Tori leaned against the helm, arms crossed in front of her. She squared her shoulders firmly as she addressed the men.

"Captain Quinn, the reason I have recalled you is that, after finally making contact with Darth Vowrawn, as you will no doubt remember was my initial mission objective on Corellia, I have relocated him and three of his apprentices to the Fury for protection, as I was forced to eliminate some of his forces in the process of reaching him. The stakes are now higher than ever, and I cannot assume the ship's droid can sufficiently address any medical needs that may arise, particularly if Vowrawn's whereabouts should reach Baras, as I've no doubt they eventually will, and Baras should make yet another attempt on Vowrawn's life. To that end, I am reinstating your medic's duties effective immediately."

"Understood, sir," Quinn replied briskly.

"We will discuss your place among the ship's crew further momentarily. For now, I would like to address the immediate situation regarding Vowrawn and his apprentices. One of his apprentices, Lord Qet, seems to have Vowrawn's trust and serves as his right hand. The other two appear to be little more than mere acolytes, and Vowrawn has expressed a desire to move them back to Korriban for the time being. When he learned that the Captain and his sister were arriving aboard a third-party transport-" Tori flashed her father a rueful grin "- he immediately suggested that we send his apprentices back to Korriban on this ship when it arrived."

Andronikos sighed heavily. "I hate Korriban," he grumbled. "Place gives me the creeps."

"This is purely your decision," Tori told him. "I have no problem telling the Darth that you are not available for his little errand. His bumbling apprentices are his problem, not mine."

"Dunno," Nikos shrugged. "Seems like it'd make things easier and less crowded all the way around if they were gone. I can make it a fast run and be back before you know it. This guy paying?"

Tori grinned. "I'm sure he'd be willing to make it worth your while. And it would serve as a gesture of goodwill, which could benefit us all at some point."

Nikos nodded. "Fair enough. Tell your Darth I'm in, as long as there are no lightsaber burns anywhere on my ship."

"Good. If you're able to secure this same dock on your return, all the better. In fact, perhaps I can have the Darth assist us in that endeavor," Tori mused. "I would still like to see the rest of your ship, but before we do that, would you mind giving me a moment to speak to the captain privately?"

"You got it," Nikos agreed. "I'll just be in the lounge if you need anything," he said more pointedly, shooting a hard look at Malavai before hauling himself from the captain's chair and off the bridge. _Kid could be likable enough aside from the giant stick up his ass. Good head on his shoulders, hell of a pilot. But Tori's clearly uncomfortable, which makes my trigger fingers itchy, _he sighed inwardly as he made his way to find some caff.

Left alone on the bridge, Tori and Quinn stood several meters apart, both with shoulders squared and jaws set. Her face was carefully blank; his was a forced mask of calm, the staccato beat of his eyelashes blinking more rapidly than usual the only outward sign of his anxiety. She cleared her throat.

_Giving orders. Just like you were on the Fury._

"Captain, prior to your leave you were second-in-command on the Fury. In your absence, Lieutenant Pierce has assumed that role, and he will remain there for the foreseeable future," Tori began brusquely. "As such, you are to follow his orders in my absence without question, and he is due the respect you would give any superior officer. Imperial ranks mean nothing aboard my ship. Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes, sir." Malavai's voice was strong and calm, but his eyes were unusually bright, and his shoulders had visibly tensed at Tori's reference to Pierce as a superior officer. He forced his breathing to remain steady.

_Is that anger? Sadness? _Tori mentally shook herself. _It doesn't matter._

"Very good. As for your quarters, you may stay in the medbay if you wish, or the cargo hold has been converted to temporary crew quarters to accommodate Vowrawn's apprentices. The choice is yours. For the time being, the bridge is off-limits to you unless you are instructed otherwise by myself or Lieutenant Pierce."

"Understood. If it is of no consequence to you, I believe I would prefer to stay in the medbay."

Tori nodded. "Very well. Do you have any questions at this time, Captain?"

"Yes, actually. My sister - will she be joining us aboard the Fury, or…?" Malavai trailed off.

"Yes, Vette has volunteered her quarters, as she will be on the surface with me a great deal of the time. Your sister will have the full protection of the crew and will be treated as a guest. I debated asking my father to keep her with him, but I do not want to risk sending more trouble his way, though he is perfectly capable of protecting her."

"Indeed," Malavai muttered, thinking about their rendezvous. The words had barely escaped his lips before his back made forceful contact with the wall. He fought for breath, the impact and the subsequent pressure on his chest that pinned him in place winding him. Tori suddenly appeared mere inches from his face, one hand extended in front of her, palm out, nearly touching the front of his duster.

"What was that, _captain_?" she hissed menacingly.

Malavai forced himself not to struggle, pausing a moment to gather his breath before he answered, though his voice was still hoarse.

"Apologies, my- _sir_. No disrespect intended. I was… _fortunate_ to witness an impressive display of Captain Revel's skill as a pilot that leaves me with no doubt that he can protect whomever he chooses quite well."

"You will want to be more mindful of your commentary, captain." Tori stepped back as suddenly as she'd come at him, dropping her hand to release him from her hold. "That will be all. Gather your belongings and wait for me to escort you back to the Fury." She whipped around quickly, turning her back on him and striding from the room before he could respond.

In the lounge, Andronikos sat quietly sipping his caff, trying not to wake Melia. The calm was shattered, however, when a loud thud sounded from the bridge and Melia bolted upright, obviously startled.

"The hell was that?" she gasped, her hand on her chest.

"A briefing, apparently," Nikos said dryly.

"Oh, _fantastic_," Melia snapped, standing as if to make her way to the bridge. "I guess that means your daughter is aboard?"

"Hey." Nikos held out a hand in a half-placating, half-warning gesture. "Settle down. They can handle themselves."

Melia opened her mouth to retort, but it was cut short by Tori appearing in the lounge.

"Ah, you're awake," she said to Melia, who was openly glaring at her.

"Yeah, the dulcet sounds of your _briefing_ on the bridge woke me," Melia said acidly. "We've not been properly introduced. Melia Quinn-Demir, Malavai's sister. And what am I to call you, exactly?"

Tori's eyebrow arched. "I did not realize you were married. In any case, call me Torilya or Tori. You will be aboard my ship as a guest; there's no need for formality."

Melia nodded, her posture relaxing very slightly. "I was married briefly when I was very young," she explained tersely.

"I see. My apologies."

Melia shook her head. "Thank you, but it was all years ago. Anyway, if you'll excuse me, I'll freshen up a bit and then be ready to go." She turned to Nikos with a questioning look, who pointed her to the refresher, then turned to his daughter.

"Everything okay?" he asked mildly.

"Fine. We'll head to the Fury shortly. I do, however, want to see the rest of your ship." Tori smiled at her father, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. Once again, Nikos took her elbow and began giving her the grand tour.

By the time they had made the full loop of the ship, both Malavai and Melia were waiting by the airlock with their belongings in tow. Tori and Andronikos came to a stop in front of them.

"Well, that's all there is to see," Nikos said. "What now, Tor?"

Tori glanced at the time on her datapad. "Might as well head over to the Fury. The Darth and his apprentices may not be up and about yet, but that gives us time to get the captain and Melia settled."

"_The captain?_" Melia mouthed at Malavai while Tori's head was turned. Malavai just shot her a hard look, pressing his lips together tightly. She frowned, but kept her thoughts to herself.

"Works for me," said Nikos. "Do you want me to come with you or just wait for my passengers to show?"

"Come on over," Tori replied. "I can make formal introductions and so on. That way, you still have the opportunity to back out should you decide it's not a good idea."

Nikos nodded. Tori turned to the other two.

"Are you ready?"

Both Malavai and Melia nodded.

"Let's go, then."

Tori led the group out the airlock and through the spaceport to the Fury's docking bay, moving quickly and carefully watching their surroundings, despite the spaceport being all but deserted given the hour. When they arrived at the Fury's airlock, she quickly input the security codes and ushered everyone through the door. As she expected, Lieutenant Pierce stood on the other side at full attention, clearly waiting for their arrival.

"Wrath," he greeted Tori, but his gaze shifted over the trio standing behind her, lingering ever so slightly on the sandy-haired woman at Quinn's side before he caught himself.

"Lieutenant," she responded. "I'd like you to meet Captain Andronikos Revel and Melia Quinn-Demir." Tori turned to her father and Melia. "This is Lieutenant-" she caught Pierce's slightly panicked look "-Pierce, my second-in-command."

Pierce nodded gruffly at the newcomers, then gave Quinn a hard glare.

"Lieutenant," Quinn greeted him quietly.

Pierce's jaw worked furiously for a moment.

"Quinn," he finally spat.

Recognizing the rising volatility of the situation, Torilya pressed on.

"What's our status, Pierce?" she asked, leading everyone through to the lounge.

"Quiet. All apparently sleeping. Jaesa's up for watch soon. Broonmark's been camped in front of the Darth's door. Vette says her quarters are all set for guest use. She's on a cot in Jaesa's quarters for the time being. Nothing much to report otherwise," Pierce shrugged.

"Thank you, Pierce," Tori said, checking the time once again. "Would you please show Melia to where she'll be staying? I imagine you'd like to get settled," she turned to Melia as she finished, who gave her a tight smile.

"You got it. Then I need a word with you and Quinn," Pierce said shortly.

Tori's eyes narrowed slightly, but she nodded in agreement. Pierce held out his hands for Melia's bags, which she gave him warily, then he led her out of the lounge toward Vette's quarters. Tori turned back to Quinn.

"Captain, if you'd like to put your things in the medbay, Pierce and I will meet you there shortly."

"Yes, sir," Quinn replied, picking up his belongings and exiting the lounge.

As soon as he was around the corner, Tori sighed heavily and sat down hard on one of the couches in the lounge. Frowning in concern, Nikos sat next to her and placed a hand on her knee.

"You need to get some sleep," he scolded her. She laughed bitterly.

"No time for that now. Besides, I have some excess energy stored up; I'll be fine. I have resources that -"

"That the rest of us mere mortals don't. Heard that line a million times from your mother. Doesn't mean she was less bitchy when she was tired, or less vulnerable to making mistakes." Nikos gave his daughter a pointed look.

"Sometimes I wonder how you outlived her with that attitude," Tori snapped, but the smirk on her face took most of the bite from her words. "Speaking of rest, though, you should grab some while you can. Once the Darth is up and his apprentices are ready to go, you could be in for a long haul without sleep. If you want to grab a quick nap until then, you can use the bridge. I've moved my quarters in there for the time being."

Nikos looked like he wanted to argue, but sighed and patted Tori's knee as he stood. "Fine, but wake me as soon as everyone's up and moving, okay?"

Tori just made a shooing motion with her hand. As Nikos left the lounge, Lieutenant Pierce came back in from getting Melia settled, carrying two datapads that he'd retrieved from his quarters. He stood in front of Tori, who gave him a questioning look.

"C'mon," he said, offering her a hand up. She allowed him to pull her to her feet, and they silently made their way to the medbay. Malavai was standing in the middle of the room, looking around with a glassy-eyed expression. He startled at Pierce's heavy footsteps approaching the door.

"What… happened in here?" Quinn sounded a bit like he'd been punched in the stomach.

Pierce looked almost as if he wanted to laugh. "Vette restocked and Too-Vee inventoried and reorganized," he replied nonchalantly. "There a problem?"

Quinn turned to face Pierce, whose expression suddenly turned menacing.

"N-no, no problem-" Quinn paused as if to gather his strength "- _sir_," he managed to choke out.

Tori broke in hurriedly on seeing the predatory gleam creeping into Pierce's eyes. "Pierce, what is this about?" she barked, bringing the Lieutenant back to the matter at hand.

Pierce looked at Tori and held up the two datapads he'd been carrying.

"These were recovered from Quinn's personal effects left in the medbay. This one seems to simply be a copy of the crew's medical records." Pierce handed the first datapad to Quinn, who nodded in confirmation."This one, however, appears to be a personal datapad that has been locked or encrypted. I did not attempt to slice into it; however, I felt given the circumstances-" his eyes cut to Quinn again "-that any decisions regarding exposing its contents should be left to you, Wrath." He handed the datapad to Tori.

Tori forced her hand to remain steady as she reached out to take it. She looked down to study it for a long moment, deliberately keeping her face well-concealed beneath her hood. The heat in her belly flared. She looked up to meet Quinn's eyes, her expression inscrutable, then silently held the datapad out to him.

"Wrath -" Pierce started to growl, then cut himself off sharply when Tori spun to face him. He cleared his throat and quickly wiped his expression clean. Tori's jaw clenched as she gave him a look that clearly spelled out exactly what would happen if he chose to undermine her at that moment, then turned back to Quinn, who looked back at her dumbfounded. He held the datapad for a moment, then powered it on and input several fast commands, turning sideways so that his movements were all visible, before handing it back to her.

"I have removed all security encoding. Its contents are open for your perusal. I have no more secrets," Quinn steadily met Tori's gaze as he spoke, his eyes once again bright.

Tori stood rigid. Pierce's head swiveled comically between the two, watching the exchange. After a beat of silence, Tori slowly shook her head.

"No. Words. Data. All meaningless," she spat. "Empty."

Malavai inhaled sharply, but did not look away. He continued to hold the datapad out to her.

"Please," he all but whispered, then something flashed across his face and he stood straighter, lifting his chin defiantly. "_My lord_," he finished deliberately, his voice clear and strong.

Pierce visibly flinched. The tension in the room became nearly palpable; Pierce wondered if it was his imagination or if he was actually feeling tiny licks of electric current crackling against his skin, but he dared not move. After a few seconds that felt more like hours, Tori ripped the datapad from Quinn's hands and spun on her heel so fast that her robes flapped in a miniature cyclone behind her as she bolted from the room. Pierce looked at Quinn, whose face had gone utterly pale and clammy, though he still stood straight.

_Hell with that_, Pierce thought, and delivered one solid shove to the center of the captain's abdomen, sending him staggering back to land on one of the medbay cots.

"Next time I lay a hand on you it will be to end your miserable little life, either because she asks me to or you hurt her again," Pierce snarled, looming over Quinn to spit in his face. "Only reason I'm not doing it now is because _she_ seems to think you might still be useful. But make no mistake, I don't. And I am just waiting for you to give me the slightest of reasons to justify gutting you with your own knives."

Quinn held perfectly still, not even reaching up to wipe the mess sliding down his cheek into his scruffy beard. Before he could respond, Pierce left the room nearly as abruptly as Torilya had, leaving Quinn to slump back onto the cot, his heart pounding. After a moment, he calmly sat up, grabbed a small bucket from the end of the cot, and heaved into it. Once he finished, he stood, wiped his face with a bandage from the stack folded on the exam table, disposed of his mess, and strode off to the refresher, shaving kit and clean clothes in hand.

An hour later, most of the Fury's passengers were awake and moving about, save for the overnight arrivals. Too-Vee was frantically rushing about to serve breakfast and fill caff mugs amidst the low rumble of muted conversations in the lounge. Darth Vowrawn sat with Lord Qet, Jaesa and Vette, Broonmark still lurking just at arm's length. Pierce leaned against a wall, arms folded, watching the room's activity. Vowrawn's other apprentices (no one seemed to bother with their names, including their master) kept to themselves in a corner. All conversation stopped as Tori entered, her robes traded for her preferred close-fitting combat gear, Andronikos following behind her. She nodded to the room in general, then gestured to her father as she addressed Darth Vowrawn.

"Good morning, my lord. I'd like to introduce the pilot who assisted with returning our medic and his sister to us overnight, Captain Revel. He is prepared to discuss the errand with which you'd like to enlist his assistance." Andronikos ducked his chin civilly at the Darth, who rose to his feet, clasping his hands in front of him.

"Ah, very good! Please, captain, come sit and let us discuss business," Vowrawn beckoned Nikos over, affording Jaesa an opportunity to excuse herself and approach Tori.

"Master," Jaesa greeted Tori quietly, "I've not been able to sense anything to indicate that Darth Vowrawn's goals are not as he says they are. If anything, he seems to be enjoying himself immensely. While he is serious about the end goal, the means are almost a game to him."

Tori nodded. "He said as much, essentially. Thank you, Jaesa. I appreciate your subtlety in this matter." She paused as she saw uneasiness flicker across her apprentice's face. "Is there something wrong?"

Jaesa sighed. "I must be honest, Master - I'm not sure my powers are working at full strength. I don't know why, nor can I tell you how long this has been the case; only that I've had this suspicion for a while."

Tori frowned angrily. "Why have you not told me before now?" Jaesa hesitated before starting to answer, but Tori cut her off, pinching the bridge of her nose as she did so. "It doesn't really matter. We can discuss it later. Just try to stay focused, and we'll sort it out."

"Thank you, Master; I will," Jaesa said, sounding both a little abashed and slightly defensive.

"In the future, however, you must tell me things like this immediately. Understood?" Tori's tone was firm, but not hostile. Jaesa nodded, and Tori laid a hand on her shoulder before walking over to join Vowrawn and Nikos. Vette gave her a sleepy smile when she walked up to the group.

"It's all set, my dear. My apprentices will be off your ship and out of my hair within the hour, thanks to your associate here," Vowrawn said cheerfully. Nikos gave Tori a sideways grin, which she met briefly before addressing the group at large.

"Good. Vette, can you be ready within half an hour? My lord, do you have any additional instructions before we go to visit Colonel Senks?"

Vette nodded as Vowrawn responded. "Oh, no, young one. I will notify you as soon as I have more information regarding Baras's additional operatives. Your focus now should just be on Senks. If you can retain him and his skills without reservation, all the better."

Tori bowed her head in acknowledgement. "Very well. Notify us as soon as you have coordinates. Otherwise, standard procedure for us is maintain radio silence as we work. Lieutenant Pierce will have command of the ship in my absence."

"Of course, Wrath."

"Thank you, my lord. If you'll excuse me, I'll finish making preparations to go to the surface. Vette, meet me at the airlock when you're ready."

Vette swallowed the enormous bite she'd been chewing. "You got it!" she chirped, then cut her eyes over to Vowrawn. "Er, I mean, as you wish, Wrath."

Vowrawn chuckled and Tori rolled her eyes. "Nice recovery," she said to Vette sarcastically, who actually looked sheepish for once.

Half an hour later, most of the Fury's passengers were crowded around the airlock as several prepared to leave. As Nikos came up to join the group, a hand on his elbow startled him. He turned to find Malavai gesturing to him furtively.

"What gives, kid?"

"I, well - here." Malavai awkwardly thrust a small pouch at Nikos, who opened it to find a tiny tranq gun and three cartridges. "The range isn't terribly good, but it gets the job done. I know you are capable of handling yourself in a fight, but the Darth may take offense to his apprentices not returning to Korriban alive, so I just thought it might be wise to have another option should something happen."

"Oh, I dunno. He doesn't seem too concerned about their welfare," Nikos snorted.

Malavai shrugged. "One never truly knows."

Nikos grinned and tucked the pouch into his jacket pocket. "You may have a point, there."

Malavai cleared his throat. "Anyway, safe travels," he said, stepping back toward the medbay.

"Thanks, kid." Nikos gave Malavai a brisk nod, then headed to meet his passengers at the airlock. When he arrived, the sight that met him was simultaneously humorous and unsettling. Darth Vowrawn leaned against a wall casually, his hands extended in front of him at shoulder level. His apprentices dangled in mid-air in front of him, feet kicking wildly, both grasping frantically at invisible hands around their necks. Broonmark stood to the side, chuffing in what sounded like laughter, Tori was watching calmly and talking to Pierce, while Vette seemed to be carefully studying the floor.

"Ah, there you are!" the Darth greeted Nikos airily. "I was just reminding my apprentices here to be good passengers during your journey. Should they give you any trouble at all, you are welcome to deal with them as you see fit, though hopefully that won't be necessary." He released them as he spoke, though not without giving them a shove as they dropped so that their heads collided. Nikos bit back a cackle.

"Ready when they are," was all he said in response, gesturing toward the door.

"Comm the ship when you're headed back," Tori said to Nikos quietly.

"Will do. Be careful out there," he murmured back, earning a childish face from Tori.

As soon as Andronikos and his two passengers were clear of the airlock, Tori turned to the rest of the group.

"I will be in touch as soon as we've made contact with Senks and collected the information we need. Pierce, Broonmark - you know what your duties are. Please be sure to look after Melia as well; as I said, she's to be treated as a guest - and try to keep Too-Vee from driving her nuts." Both nodded. "All right. Vette, shall we?"

"Locked and loaded," Vette replied, patting her pockets to make sure she had enough spare power packs.

The two women made their way to the door, Pierce on their heels. As Tori stepped out, he surreptitiously grabbed her wrist. She turned to look at him questioningly.

"Good hunting," he said, his face carefully blank.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," she said quietly, meeting his gaze for a fleeting moment before turning and walking briskly out into the spaceport, Vette at her side.


End file.
